It Could Be Worse
by HotCrossPigeon
Summary: There's something wrong with JD. Is it just the stress getting to him when Dr Cox takes a day off? Or is there something else going on...
1. Chapter 1: Bed Pans

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, but damn it I wish I did._

_Warnings: JD hurt/comfort/owwies_

_Song: Coldplay, I ran away. I've never put a song in a fanfic before… probably never will again._

_Hope you enjoy the story; it's my first attempt at writing Scrubs, so feel free to give me pointers/advice etc. It's going to be multi-chaptered…_

_**Chapter 1: Bed pans**_

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_JD's POV_

It's a slow day and I'm waiting on some test results from the lab, so here I am sitting on the nurse's station with my legs swinging, listening to my new iPod, the other one unfortunately having been thrown in a urine sample by Dr Cox. This one's called Louis, seeing as the first song I played on it was 'What a wonderful world'. That man is a godsend.

Carla doesn't mind me sitting on the station today, she's happy because Turk gave her a bubble bath last night. By Turk giving her a bubble bath I mean I made _myself_ a bubble bath – with these awesome new scented candles and strawberry bubble mix, seriously you would not believe how many bubbles that stuff makes, I thought I'd entered a new dimension – and when Carla saw it she kind of got the wrong idea. Oh well, I can have another go tonight. I'm gonna smell delicious!

"Hey baby." I turn my head and Turk is smacking a big one on Carla's lips. They're so sweet when Carla thinks Turk's done something romantic.

I feel a slight pang of jealousy, wondering if someone would do the same for me one day or whether I'm going to be doomed to loiter around relationships for the rest of my life. I imagine myself as the Loiterer of relationships, for some reason I resemble the Phantom of the Opera, with a mask that hides one side of my face "Nooo," I sing, brandishing my arms, "I am doomed to live alone forever!" I quickly brush the feeling of jealousy aside. Turk and Carla deserve to be happy.

"Turk, make sure you get home on time tonight." Carla says seductively, leaning over the counter top.

"Oh yeah?" I can practically hear the Brinner alarm bells going off in Turk's head.

"Yeah, I've got a little something planned…" they kiss again, and I mouth 'Brinner' to Turk, and he does a little victory dance over to me.

"Hey V-bear," He's whispering so Carla can't hear and I grin at his nickname for me. We are so cool. "Thanks for last night man, you have no idea how grateful Carla was." In fact, I know exactly how grateful Carla was, and spent most of the night with a pillow over my head thinking of my happy place. The unicorns there were having a tea party.

Todd makes an appearance. I find it odd how he manages to pop out of nowhere but at just the right moment for some innuendo. "Yeah. My man _got_ some!" He says, grinning like a loon and holding his hand up, "sexual favour five." Turk begrudgingly high fives him and Todd disappears into the fog, wearing a cape. He must have heard another conversation.

"His spider sense was tingling." I say, and then remember where I am and continue chirpily, "and it's no problem C-bear! But can I have the bath tonight? I wanted to get all soapy." Another daydream comes to mind, as I slather soap all over myself, and slalom all around the hospital wearing nothing but a pair of extra sudsy boxer shorts.

"Whee!" I sing, as I pass the morgue and Doug gives me a wave with some dead guy's hand. I wave back, and slide on over to Elliot, who quickly soaps up and joins me on the crusade.

"Linoleum gives me nipple rash." I say dreamily.

"Man, you've gotta control these daydreams of yours," says Turk with a grin. He doesn't really seem to mind and besides I think the zoning out makes me more endearing. I grin back and he gives me a brotherly kind of squeeze on the shoulder and leaves. Something about a surgical consult, and something about his hands being gifts from the Lord. The usual.

I plug my headphones back in to my iPod and relax, thinking of my nice warm bath I'm gonna have when I get home. I've been feeling a little tired lately.

Ah, the soft mellow tones of Coldplay begins to play. Man I love this thing, sometimes I wonder if they'll make an iPod that's so small you can wear it like an earring, then no one will know you're listening to some sweet tunes, instead of say, Dr Cox's new rant, _and_ you'll look like a pirate!

_Everyone I know says I'm a fool to mess with you_

_And everyone I know says it's a stupid thing to do_

Ah Chris Martin, your voice is like a choir of angels! As I think this, Dr Cox swings round the corner in that way he often does when he's on the warpath. I watch with mild interest as the interns squeak and run away from the Dr Cox storm as the thunderclouds threaten and lighting starts to streak from the sky. But they needn't have bothered running because he's heading right towards me.

I squeak. In a manly way of course. Hopping off the nurse's station, I run in the opposite direction.

"Newbie!" Dr Cox growls.

_And when I heard you call to come back to me  
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And though I should stay I don't have the stomach to_

Wow, how odd is it that this song is absolutely perfect for the situation I'm currently in - what are the chances? I ponder that as I speedily head for the supply closet.

Ah, safe among the syringes and swabs. There's something calming about the smell of disinfectant. Now I wouldn't usually run away from Dr Cox because I know that even though his rants are quite scary, and sometimes hurt me on the inside, they do help in the long run. I know he only acts like he does in order to make me a better doctor. At least, that's what I tell myself, Turk and Elliot seem to disagree.

_Everyone I know says I'm a fool to mess with you_

_And everyone I know says it's a stupid thing to do_

Wow, this song must be psychic! Anyway, the reason I'm running from Dr Cox today is because he's not after me for anything medical. This time, he really is just mad at me, and I don't think I can handle another rant seeing as yesterday he came up with a half-hour long one and followed me around the entre hospital, including the toilet, so he could get it out of his system. It was a pretty good one I have to admit, but a little tiring.

I guess I've been feeling a little under the weather recently, but it's nothing a nice long sleep and a soak in the bubbly tub won't fix.

Then the door opens, and I see the big red face of Dr Cox who looks as though a vein just might burst out of forehead and slap me in the eye. I yelp as he drags me out of the closet by my collar.

Think of the bubbles, just think of the bubbles.

"Listen here _Jezebel_. When I shout 'Newbie', or whatever appropriate and demeaning girls name I come up with at the time, it is not a request, heck it's not even a demand, it's a given that you will turn your sorry little ass around and listen to what I've got to say, can you get your girly little head around that?" He yanks the beautiful music from my ears and chucks my precious Louis over to the waiting Janitor.

How is the Janitor always around to torture me? He must have the same spider sense as Todd does; maybe they've got a satellite system or something.

Louis gets tucked into the Janitor's pocket and I know that I'm never going to see him again. Poor Louis, he didn't even last a full week.

"Newbie I swear to God, if you're not listening to me I'm going to rip out your ears so you've got an excuse!"

"S-sorry Dr Cox."

He ignores my apology, voice dangerous, "Now would you like to tell me just why-oh-why exactly it is that Jordon knows about my day off tomorrow and has scheduled a trip to the mall so I can be her lapdoggy and carry all her precious shopping bags whilst balancing Jack on my arm and trying not to spend all my hard-earned money on a pair of stilettos that she absolutely _must_ have but will wear once and then declare legally dead?!"

I don't think he actually breathed for the whole of that sentence. He sure looks mad.

And this is why I've been trying to avoid Dr Cox all day. See, this morning I was excitedly telling Turk that I could sing all the Boston hits my heart desired tomorrow without Dr Cox threatening to throw me off the roof, because my mentor wasn't going to be in. Only Jordon was in the same room, and of course, she was listening as she always does for something to blackmail someone with.

I swear she was actually breathing fire at me.

"What the hell are you going on about DJ? You tell me or so help me I'll shove that iPod of yours -" I try to block out most of Jordon's comments because they tend to sting a bit worse than Dr Cox's do, "- cheese-grater -" block it, block it out, "- so hard you'll wish you were dead -" and so on and so forth. I don't really want to think about it as it was one of the scariest moments of my life. So I had to tell her about Dr Cox's day off, only he obviously didn't want her to know...

"S-she overheard me talking and then threatened to kill Louis," I finally stutter at the floor. Not that it mattered now, seeing as Louis was in the hands of my arch-nemesis. There was no telling the unspeakable evils he was going to be subjected to.

Dr Cox lets out that laugh of his that isn't really a laugh, more of a short harsh bark that tells me instantly that he doesn't give a crap, "I don't give a crap what your excuse is Newbie," he snarls, "just be sure that you know I've relieved all nurses of bed pan duty and put you in there place."

Well, I think quietly to myself, at least I know it could be worse.

"For the next three months."

- What?

"And you're responsible for every single one of my patients tomorrow, so if I come back and one of their hairs is out of place I will hold you personally responsible, you got that? And don't think this is the end of my fury either, because thanks to you the one day of my life where I could be out - dare I say it, doing something for _myself_ for once instead of gallivanting after you making sure you don't kill people, or making sure my son doesn't eat all the lego animals we bought him so he could have some semblance of a happy childhood, or trying to keep Jordon from feasting on the entrails of my blackened soul - has gone, kaput."

"I'm sorry -" I try, but he cuts me off.

"Apologies won't cut it Delilah. I now have no _me_ time, and for that Newbie, you are damned for all eternity."

I swallow and attempt a small smile. I mean, he could have just punched me in the face, but seeing as he didn't – his arms are folded in what I like to call the 'I'm so much more important than you, you may as well just curl into a ball and cry' pose – I thank my lucky stars.

"You better not be smiling at me there, sweet cheeks, because the _only_ reason you're not flat on your back right now, clutching your face and screaming 'Dear God help me, I think my girly face is broken', is because if I hospitalise you, you won't be cleaning out any bedpans." Then he turns on his heel and stalks away.

I let out a sigh of relief, and watch as he moves down the corridor causing everyone else to press up against the walls to get out of his way. I'm sure glad that it's over. Now there are only a few more hours of my shift and I'm as free as a bird.

The Janitor smiles at me, patting his pocket.

It could be worse, I remind myself, but can't help frowning at him as he saunters off. Seriously, he's just mean. I make a mental note to sneak after him and steal Louis back. Only, the last time I followed him I discovered his squirrel army… and I gotta tell you, small rodents scare me. Especially dead, creepy looking, stuffed rodents in their masses.

Laverne taps me on the shoulder, and I smile at her, "yes Laverne, anything I can help you with?" I say in my doctor voice. It's better if I forget this whole thing and immerse myself in my work.

"All the bed pans on this floor are full _Doctor_ Dorian, and I've just been informed that it's your job," she shoves a smelly metal pan into my unsuspecting fingers and laughs with her head tilted all the way back, just like a super-villain. "Have fun Q-tip."

It could be worse, right?

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_Thanks for reading_.


	2. Chapter 2: Gorillas and Sledgehammers

_Chapter 2: Gorillas and Sledgehammers_

_Thanks so much for the encouraging feedback :) Here's the next chapter. If you've got any comments, they'd be greatly appreciated!_

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_JD's POV_

I have the biggest headache in the world. The rest of my day consists of Carla shooting me concerned looks and Dr Cox bumping my shoulder angrily whenever he walks past. I pretend it's a sign of affection; like a high five, or a comforting nudge. The growls he makes though, I don't think I can pass those off as affectionate. He may actually want to kill me.

When my shift finally ends and I drive Sasha all the way home, I find that I don't have the energy to fill up the tub, so just change into my comfy onesie and crawl into bed.

Besides, I think Turk and Carla want some alone time. Again. Not for the first time I wonder if maybe I'm in the way; Turk and Carla have been more couple-y these past weeks, and of course they love having the J-dizzle around but, what happens when they want to start a proper family together? I can't be the crazy but adorable live-in friend forever …

I snuggle down and am asleep before I even know it. The bad thing is that my alarm goes off before I even know it as well.

No. It can't be morning can it? This is ridiculous, I need more snooze time or my brain will turn to jelly. My head pounds and I blink blearily at my alarm clock. It's no trick; it's 5 am and I've got to head on over to the hospital before anything happens to Dr Cox's patients and he actually punches me this time.

I get up, begrudgingly, and head out of my room. But I don't quite make it. I'm dizzy, the room blurs and I kind of zone out a little like I do after one too many appletinis. The next thing I know I'm on the floor with my nose in the carpet. I didn't trip, I just sort of fell. I put it down to getting up too fast; those silly head rushes always get me after a long shift. I giggle a little and wait a full minute before removing myself from the floor and heading out, and the dizziness seems to subside.

Huh, guess I'm just tired.

My Chocolate bear's there to greet me and Carla's making breakfast, guess we've all got an early start today. "Good mo-orning," I sing, stretching my arms and smothering a satisfying yawn. I try out a pose, which I shall hence forth call the 'ready for another day' pose, which consists of me striking a rather dashing look in my onesie with my hands on my hips.

Carla just smiles at me, "Morning Bambi," she says and hands me a plate of pancakes already smothered in maple syrup. She has her concerned face back on, and find myself hoping against hope that she didn't hear the muffled thump of me falling on my face in the bedroom.

You see, Carla gets worried about me - which don't get me wrong, I usually really love, it's like having another mother. Well, a mother who actually cares. But I like it when she cares about the small things, like me moaning about girlfriends or my hair products or whatever meaningless gossip is floating around the hospital, not something like this. Not when I'm not sure what's wrong with me.

"You better eat them all up now," she tells me, "you're looking a little peaky."

"Thanks Carla," I smile and make fast work of the breakfast. Turk's not really a morning person, and all I get as a greeting is a small grunt as he eyes up my plate with a longing pout on his lips. But his face lights up as a stack of pancakes is placed in front of him too. Albeit without the syrup.

"They're sugar free," Carla says leaning in for a kiss.

They're so happy today; I guess last night must have been good, though I'm happy to I went straight to sleep and heard nothing this time. My thoughts drift to the pancakes as Turk and Carla discuss relationship things that are really none of my business. Man, these are so good; Carla's got to have miracle hands. Instead of the daydream I expect after that thought, there's just a sort of slow ache. That's not right.

"Owwie," I mutter, rubbing my head a little. Silly headaches. Well, there's no keeping me down today, I'll just tackle you with the phenomenal power that is aspirin. Maybe when Dr Cox comes back I'll try to talk to him about it. I get up, and put my plate in the sink, "See you later C-bear, C-bear's woman."

They're a little lost in each other to notice, but that's okay. I ride Sasha into work again, but I pick up some painkillers on the way for the new sledgehammer that's taken up residence in my skull.

"You're mean," I tell the sledgehammer.

The sledgehammer shrugs and says, "Hey it's just a job; a sledgehammer's gotta do what a sledgehammer's gotta do." He then makes quick work of my skull.

"Couldn't you do it some place else?" I ask with a wince.

"Look," answers the sledgehammer, pausing his ministrations angrily, "I don't tell you how to do your doctoring do I? and I've got a wife and two baby hammers at home to feed, so I'll sure as hell work wherever I damn well please!"

"Sledgehammers are grumpy in the morning," I say as the daydream fades away and I find myself in Sacred Heart already.

I pick up Dr Cox's and my patient files from the Nurse's desk, feeling like someone was playing a large and rather precarious game of Jenga on my hands - seriously, how was I supposed to handle this many patients? I get a little dizzy even thinking about it and have to lean on the counter. Unfortunately this is my downfall and the files tumble from my hands and fan out over the floor like a wave.

"Damn it."

I drop to my knees to pick them up.

"Hey V-bear!" I look up, and then stand up, my arms full of files. It's Turk.

"Brown bear," I try to smile, but my good mood has been taken by the sledgehammer in my head and the mountain of patients on my shoulders. I always maintained the belief that any day starting with pancakes was destined to be happy, but for some reason I don't think this one can be anything other than exhausting.

"Hey, you left without us saying goodbye," Turk looks at me for a moment and I try to smile wider lest he suspect my unusual pessimism, "you okay man? You look a little paler than usual."

Darn my fair complexion, it's more of a curse than a gift!

"Yeah," I say with a sigh as we head on down the hall, "don't think it's anything to worry about C-Bear, just got a bit of a headache that's all." This is true, but I still feel a little guilty knowing that I'm partially lying to my Chocolate bear.

Turk nods and puts a hand on my shoulder, which I unintentionally lean into, "Well anyway, I wanted to say thanks again for that whole bath thing, and I know that Cox got all mad on your ass and chucked away your new iPod."

I lower my eyes, "Oh Louis, may you rest in peace and never turn to the dark side."

"Yeah," Turk says with a slight roll of his eyes, "so I stopped by the hardware store last night and bought you a new one!"

He reaches into his pocket and hands me a shiny new iPod. It's baby blue, it'll match my eyes! I look at it in awe and practically jump into his arms, "Thanks C-bear!" I cry. See, I knew this day was going to be happy, the pancakes never lie! "Does he have a name?"

"Na man, I'm gonna leave that up to you. Just don't get too attached okay? You know Dr Cox'll probably find out about it." I don't care, I'm so happy, I get even happier when I realise Turk's uploaded all my songs.

"I love you!" I tell him sincerely, and he gets all embarrassed and tells me he's glad I like it. See, days like this are the days that make you glad to be alive. I know I've got a shed load of work to do, I know that Dr Cox's vengeance isn't quite over yet, and most of all I know that this headache of mine isn't slowing down, but I'm happy in the knowledge that when I'm in trouble I've got good friends to lean back on who will help me to my feet again.

I stick the headphones into my ears and head off to my first patient, a certain Mr. Harolds on the third floor. The thing is, after a few moments of one of my all time favourite Journey hits, my head starts protesting.

I take out the headphones and massage my forehead.

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_Elliot's POV_

I swear there's something wrong with JD today.

He totally ignored me in the elevator when I asked him to wait. See, I was heading up to the second floor because the scrubs machine down here is on the fritz and my morning no-fat latte was too hot, so naturally I spilt it all down my front and now my bra is showing. It's the black one with the frills so it shows right through my blue scrubs. Frick! I knew I should have gone for a different colour, but the light blue shows off my new eye shadow perfectly.

I've got to say though, I did like the way that cute male nurse from paediatrics was looking at me, but… not so much those old men sitting with Dr Kelso.

I was feeling really bad today. It was one of those mornings where I'd woken up, taken one look in the mirror, and wondered how my hair had turned into a haystack over night. "Frick!" I squealed, trying to smooth it down.

Then I burnt my finger on my straighteners, "Double-frick!"

And five minutes later my mom called and asked me why exactly it was that I wasn't married yet because the whole of the family are getting snapped up left right and centre, while I'm stuck in work drooling over any man who pays me the slightest bit of attention. "Mom, I've got to go to work. I'm a doctor, I save lives! No I don't care who Cousin Fiona's engaged to – frick I'm already late - !"

I was just really down, you know?

Anyway, back to JD.

After spilling latte all down my front I ran to the elevator, relieved that the doors were open so that I could just run inside to hide my face that was probably the most embarrassing shade of bright pink. Seriously, my cheeks go mauve when I feel uncomfortable, and having my bra on show to everyone in the hospital who don't already refer to me as 'that incompetent ditzy female doctor' is definitely an 'uncomfortable' occasion.

But JD was in the elevator and even though I screeched "JD! Hold up!" at him, he just pushed the button with a tired dreamy sort of look in his eyes and the doors shut in my face.

So now I'm taking the stairs, and trying to hide my underwear from the Janitor, who I _think_ may be following me. Kinda creepy.

Well, anyway, JD better be ill, because I'm not gonna stand for it if he's just being an idiot.

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_JD's POV_

By lunch I'm feeling a lot more under the weather. But I've managed to stay on top of the stack of patients, so I'm feeling a little better about not having Dr Cox rubbing my face into the dirt.

I wonder how he's doing anyway…

I take up my usual daydreaming stance and can see him balancing Jack on his shoulders and skipping around the shopping centre after Jordan with an expression of pure glee on his face. No, wait a minute, that's what _I_ would be doing. I love shopping sprees, especially when there's ice cream and sales.

The scene changes and I see Dr Cox wearing a murderous frown and gripping the millions of shopping bags Jordan has accumulated with so much force that the bags burst and an ocean of shoes pour out, swamping any unsuspecting shoppers who get caught in the onslaught. Dr Cox lets out a howl and spontaneously combusts.

That's more like it, I think, snapping back to reality as I get to the cafeteria. I hope he isn't too mad, he'd probably just have used this day to catch up on his soap or go kick the crap out of a punching bag or something. Of course, that doesn't mean he can't make my life a living hell for missing out on it.

Turk, Elliot and Carla are all sat at a table, so I grab some food without looking and join them. I just really feel like I need my friends right now because, truth be told, I'm not quite feeling myself. I wonder what's wrong with me? It could be that all the hospital shifts and late-night watching of the Gilmore Girls has finally caught up with my brain.

"Hey guys," I say as I tiredly open my fruit cup. The plastic seems to get stuck and my fingers won't cooperate, so I tug on it with a small frown.

They all give me a "Hey JD", but Elliot looks a little moody; I wonder if I've done something to upset her or whether she's just having one of her "frick" days. She blows a stray strand of blonde hair from her eyes and rubs at her scrubs top self-consciously. Hmm, maybe a bit of both.

I catch Carla's eye, she's sitting directly opposite me staring at me in that motherly way she sometimes does. She reaches out her hand to feel my forehead, "Bambi, you don't look so good." She says.

That small statement means that everyone at the table starts to look at me. That's the funny thing about being doctors, you begin to see everyone as patients, and right now all three of them were looking at me with their 'diagnosing' faces.

I consider lying to them, but I find myself wanting the comfort. I lean into it like a warm pillow, "yeah," I mumble, "I guess I don't feel that great."

But as I allow myself this admission, my pager goes off. I snatch it up, give my friends an apologetic look and abandon my uneaten lunch without another thought. Mr. Harolds was coding. Damn it and just when I thought I was doing so well too.

I stumble a little on my way there and have to lean against the wall. The Janitor's there, grinning at me, as I catch my breath.

As I move on though he starts to scowl at me, "So you thought you'd just come over here and mess up my wall huh?"

I don't ask. I have to get to Mr. Harolds. The Janitor just nods at my arm on the wall and I remove it noting the new layer of paint stuck to my sleeve. Great.

"I'm watching you, wall-paint-messer-upper!" He calls after me.

I don't have time to think as I run to Mr. Harold's room. A nurse is already there charging the paddles and I take them from her without a thought.

On television, defibrillators are like the gift of life. Once you have them in your hands you have the power to bring someone back from the dead, no matter how bad it may seem. But the truth is that sometimes even when you've got all the equipment you could possibly need there's just nothing you can do, and this doesn't seem to be Mr. Harold's lucky day.

He doesn't respond.

"Clear!"

I know it's futile but I keep using the paddles, thinking of all the different ways that Dr Cox is going to kill me when he gets back. In the end I only stop trying when the nurse puts her hand on my arm.

I look up. For the first time, I notice that it's Laverne. "Q-tip, he's gone." She says. After a moment I nod, and she takes the paddles from me, giving me her 'eyebrows raised' look and I know what I have to do.

"Time of death… 12:37," I hear myself say dejectedly.

In my heart I know that this probably would have always have happened; Mr. Harolds was an elderly gentleman who ate way too much bacon and double cream for his heart to keep him going, but I can't help but think that if I had gotten here faster I could have saved him. Or maybe if I wasn't so caught up today with my silly problems I might've noticed something was wrong. Doctor Cox is going to be pissed, but maybe I deserve it.

"It's not your fault Q-tip, Jesus wanted him home." I think I hear from Laverne as I leave Mr. Harold's room.

I avoid my friends, thinking I shouldn't bask in their comfort after this, so I check up on all of the patients again to make sure there's nothing else that I've screwed up.

My head is killing me; it's pounding as if there actually isn't a brain in there, like Dr Cox keeps insisting. Instead there's some giant angry gorilla that's joined forces with the sledgehammer and they're going on a JD's nerve ending massacre.

"Guys, please!" I mutter to myself, earning a few odd looks, "why can't you play with someone else's pain receptors?" Ow ow ow. I stop as the world blurs again and I feel inexplicably exhausted.

And that's when Turk finds me; I realise that I'm sat with my back against the wall of a corridor with my head in my hands. When did that happen?

"Hey JD, you okay man?"

He kneels beside me, and I pull myself out of whatever state I'm in to answer him. "Oh," I try to sound casual, as if me sitting slumped against the wall is a normal occurrence, "hey Chocolate bear. Just sitting on the floor, you know… it's kind of cosy down here."

Strangely, Turk doesn't seem too surprised. "I heard about Mr. Harolds," he tells me gently, "it's a tough break, but you know there was nothing you could do, right? He just wasn't long for this world."

I nod my head, resisting the urge to bring my hands up to cradle it when it protests to the movement. I want to tell Turk that I'm not just moping over a patient. I want to tell him that my head hurts so badly right now, and for some reason I'm so tired, that I don't think I can get back up. But he's smiling at me as if he's made it all better, and I haven't the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Thanks man," I say instead and take his hand that he offers me to pull myself back up. The dizziness subsides after a while of blinking.

When Turk leaves I decide to check up on my patients all over again, determined not to lose anyone else today no matter how I'm feeling. I can't let whatever this is affect my work as a Doctor.

By the time the end of the day comes around, I'm dead on my feet and nearly fall off Sasha as I ride home. It hits me that apart from the pancakes this morning I haven't eaten all day. Perhaps that's the reason for my headaches and dizzy spells.

Of course, it was so simple right? Just dehydration and lack of nutrition! Although… I was dizzy this morning after breakfast too… I push the thought aside and pat Sasha lovingly.

"It's not your fault we're swerving a little; it's your silly rider's fault. But don't you fret, because we're gonna go get a nice healthy burger and everything will be dandy."

We stop off at some fast food place that I don't even look at; I grab a burger and head home. As Sasha and I rumble off into the night, I think of locking up my newly acquired grumpy mood somewhere where it can never come out again; maybe in one of those heavy wooden treasure chests at the bottom of the deepest ocean, or a dark closet far away in Antarctica, somewhere, anywhere, so I won't be bothered by it anymore. Maybe I was compensating for Dr Cox's absence, after all a hospital needs at least one grouchy doctor.

A smile makes its way onto my face and I mentally picture myself sticking it there with imaginary tape. "There," I tell my smile, "don't go anywhere this time! I miss my happy thoughts."

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_Hope you enjoyed reading._


	3. Chapter 3: The Bath Incident

_Chapter 3: The Bath Incident_

_Here's another chapter, feel free to read it and enjoy... and if not enjoy then something else. I wish there were as many reviews for this as there are story alerts, but I guess not everyone can give feedback. For those who did review, thank you so much! I can't express my gratitude enough that you're helping me with this :)_

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_Carla's POV_

I'm worried about Bambi. Not as much as Turk is I'll grant you, he keeps nervously tilting his head back to look at the door, poor baby. We're snuggling on the sofa, except he's kind of fidgety and it's getting a little on my nerves.

"Turk, why don't you just ring him if you're so worried?"

"I'm not worried baby." He says, clearly lying. If he thinks he can act all macho with me, he's got another thing coming. I mean I did catch him and Bambi crying over _Titanic_ a few nights ago. They'd been sniffling over the scene with Leo DiCaprio drowning.

"He was too young and in love!" JD had pouted, hugging a pillow to his chest. I don't think Turk even trusted himself to speak; he'd had those red eyes again.

I snuggle closer to Turk now and say, "I think it's sweet that you're worried about Bambi." And feel his arm wrap around me.

Turk seems glad we've changed the conversation, we were talking about my sisters and that's not his favourite topic, plus I can see from the way he's wrinkling his forehead and pouting his lips that he's more focused on JD right now. "I thought maybe he was bummed out about that patient dying, but he has been looking ill," he says, "you think he's coming down with something baby?"

I actually did think something was probably wrong with Bambi. He felt warm when I put my hand on his forehead earlier, but then he'd got a page and had scarpered so we couldn't ask him about it. I know he had a lot to deal with today, what with Dr Cox having a day off.

"You know what he's like," I say comfortingly, "he's probably just overworked. How about we go run him a bath for when he gets in, hmm? I know I appreciated it when you did it for me."

I give him a grateful kiss and get up to run the bath. He really surprised me with that bath the other night. You see, I was a _little_ annoyed at him for buying me a full-fat coffee and muffin at lunch because he knew I was trying to watch my figure ever since that idiotic woman from psychiatry told me my hips were looking bigger.

Of course Turk gave me a kiss and told me I looked wonderful, even if he can be insensitive sometimes, and the biggest man-child in the world except for Bambi, he usually makes me feel better. And then he gave me that bath. Mmm… I decided to let the coffee and muffin thing slide. He's gonna get a whole lot of loving for that.

I turn on the taps and pour in some of that strawberry bubble bath on the shelf; it must be Bambi's - he sure has strange taste for a man. It does smell good though.

I don't think I'll bother with the candles, it's not like Bambi would light any for himself right? I try not to imagine JD sitting in the tub with candles all around him, reading a romantic novel and painting his toenails pink as his foot sticks out of the bubbles. The thing is, it's not that hard to imagine.

As I twist off the taps I hear the sound of the front door opening, and the steady drag of feet. Then the inevitable "Vanilla bear!" and the sound of Turk running and practically jumping on Bambi. Sure enough when I come out of the bathroom, Turk's squeezing JD like he'll never see him again.

"Would you two like some privacy?" I ask casually.

Bambi's smiling at me as he and Turk part. He's got a bag of fast food swinging from his arm – an arm that's stained with white paint, no doubt that's the Janitor's doing - and he looks thoroughly exhausted. "Sorry I'm late guys," he says, "went to pick up some foo-ood."

"Yeah I didn't see you eat lunch," input Turk worriedly, "you better not be getting any thinner, you know I refuse to hug anything bony." He's so sweet when he cares. Although I sometimes wish he'd care about me as much as he does JD. Right now they're both looking a little too longingly at each other for my liking.

So I tut and roll my eyes at them both.

"Baby," he fixes me with a stare and puts his arm around Bambi again, who looks as though the weight of my baby's half hug may just threaten to tip him over, "you _know_ squishier is better!" Turk says. He better not be inferring anything about my weight with that comment. Lucky for him, Turk seems to sense my anger and he backs off a little, asking JD quickly, "so why didn't you come see us after your shift?"

JD shrugs with that happy smile of his, "Just really busy." He says, except the effect is sort of lost when he blinks tiredly and lets out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Poor baby," I say, "Well how about I put the junk food in the fridge and you get into the bath."

JD blinks at me for a moment, but then an excited look springs onto his face, "Bath?"

"Yeah, me and Turk ran you one while you were out; it sure made me feel better the other day." JD gets the sparkle back in his eyes at that, and grins as I take the bag of food from his hands and he jumps into the bathroom.

"Thanks Carla!" he beams. I love it when I can be all motherly to him; he soaks it up like a sponge.

…………

_JD's POV_

I'm thanking whoever may be up there for blessing me with such good friends. I'm soaking in the bath right now, and it's so warm and soothing to my aching muscles that even though I want to get started on that burger I bought (it's waiting just outside the door if Turk hasn't gotten to it yet), I would feel at peace to just lie in the suds forever.

And there are plenty of suds to go around, I feel like I've sunk into a snowdrift. "I wonder if there are penguins in here," I say out loud dunking my head inside the bubble cavern, and sure enough I find myself surrounded by little black and white birds.

"Hey," I ask them, with my pondering face on, "can you guys actually not fly or do you fly in secret?"

The penguins squawk at me and blink their beady eyes.

"I don't speak penguin!" I tell them exasperatedly.

They flap their wings and slide off into the water on their bellies.

"You think you can fool me, well the joke's on you because I _know_ you can fly! You're little black and white assassins, aren't you?"

Hmm… they don't answer. The penguins are gone, and my head feels heavy. I guess it must be weighted down by all those things making a racket in my brain. After a few minutes of relaxing I decide that, headache or not, bubbles are not just there to make the bath look pretty.

I giggle as I make myself a white afro out of the foam. "Ooo burn baby burn," I sing quietly, knowing that Turk and Carla don't take kindly to my singing habits, especially when in the bathroom where my voice echoes back like a giant sound system. So I whisper, "Disco inferno..." And fluff up the bubbles in my hair.

I'm glad I can take my mind off Mr. Harolds, as guilty as that makes me feel. I know that tomorrow it's going to be all I can think about, and not just because Dr Cox will be hammering into my head for the entire day.

I sigh, and let my bubble-fro dissolve as I close my eyes and lean my head back. I'm sleepy.

………….

_Carla's POV_

We must have fallen asleep on the sofa because the next thing I know, Turk is shaking me awake. The first thing he asks me, predictably, is about JD.

"Baby. He's been in there for long time; do you think he's fallen asleep?"

I glance at the clock sleepily. He's right, Bambi _has_ been in the bathroom for two hours now; surely the water's gone cold? We both get up immediately and head over to the bathroom. Turk knocks on the door.

"Hey Vanilla Bear, you still alive in there?"

We wait patiently for an answer but there isn't one. I don't want to start worrying now, but I get that horrible feeling in my stomach and hold onto Turk's arm.

"JD, honey, are you all right?" I call.

Turk tries the doorknob but of course JD's locked himself in, he always does. Ever since I tried to scare him while he was showering, just like Turk and he do to me with that stupid dog of his. "JD!" Turk says, "_JD_!"

And then there's a thump, like something heavy falling over. And a weak "Y-yeah?" from the other side of the door.

I know that Turk and I both breathe a huge mental sigh of relief at that. Well actually, Turk looks like he's getting over a heart attack. "You had me scared then V-bear!" he admits, which is a bit of an understatement, "You all right?" A few minutes pass.

The lock turns and the door opens to reveal a very cold, very wet and very tired looking JD wrapped in two towels. "I-I think I fell asleep…" he says, teeth chattering. He looks about ready to fall over, and he does, right into Turk.

"Woah, buddy, take it easy."

"Oops," says Bambi exhaustedly, finding his footing as Turk puts a hand on his shoulder "s-sorry… just tired…" But I don't know whether he is just tired. He smiles a little self-consciously as if noticing for the first time that he's only wearing a couple of towels - although I don't know why he's embarrassed, I've seen him in much less. "I think I'll just g-go to bed."

Turk and I are still worried, so we take him to bed and hand him his pyjamas. I'd like to take him to the hospital, I mean he's shivering and barely keeping his eyes open, any nurse can see he isn't well, but when I ask him JD just laughs and shakes his head.

"Don't be silly," he says.

I feel so stupid leaving him in that bath for so long, I should have realised that he would have fallen asleep - he _did_ look tired. And so Turk and I leave him to rest, reluctantly, knowing that he needs it.

But later, when Turk's fallen asleep with his worried face on, I get up and go check on Bambi. There's no way I'm gonna let him go to work tomorrow.

………

_JD's POV_

My alarm again. It sounds angry, as if I've somehow neglected it when it's been a loyal companion for many a year. Hell, it even pulled through for me when I spilled hot fudge sauce on it that time me and Turk had brownie sundaes in bed.

That sounded a bit gay, but it's early so I forgive myself.

Urgh… I feel ridiculously terrible… I hand the task of finding out just why I feel so ridiculously terrible over to my brain to deduce, while I lie patiently in the covers and wait for this mean ache in my skull to go away.

_Is it a hangover?_ My brain ponders quietly.

I pout a little, laying my arm over my eyes. Naa, that's not it… I would be smelling delightfully apple-y right now if that was the case, and I'd be wearing decidedly less clothing too. But these pyjamas are comfy so I'm not complaining about that.

_Not a hangover then. Were you hit with a passing piano?_

Not that I know of…

_Did Dr Cox finally try to kill you? _

I contemplate this for a moment, but then realise I still have all my limbs attached and shake my head.

And then I remember my bath incident last night. I may never take a bath ever, ever again after that mishap. Not because I was afraid, but because I think I scared my C-bear and Carla a little. I was just so _tired_. One minute I was all warm and soapy just letting my eyes close to rest them, and the next I wake up in a freezing bath coughing on the water as someone shouts my name outside the door.

I remember dragging myself out and flopping onto the floor as my legs gave out from under me. Owwie. I called out to whoever it was outside the door so they wouldn't feel the urge to barge in and rescue me, and strip me of any dignity I had left in the process.

I grabbed the nearest thing I could find to cover my manly physique with. I have a newfound respect and love for towels, especially towels that have been left to soak up the heat from a radiator.

I look at the alarm clock with a pout, and then my heart skips a beat. That couldn't be the time could it? I blink blearily. Oh crap, I'm late – I'm _late_! My alarm must have gone off four times already and I slept right through. And Dr Cox was back today.

I get up dizzily and manage to get though my normal morning routine in record time, throwing on some clothes and stumbling out.

Turk and Carla are already gone, there's a note on the fridge demanding that I stay in bed, something about calling a doctor, and there being flapjacks in the fridge, but I barely glace at it as I head out of the apartment.

………

_Dr Cox's POV_

Where is that kid? I'm going to have to kill him. I ask him to _please_ not kill any of my patients if he could help it - God knows that isn't that hard seeing as most of them are either comatose or just have a bad case of the sniffles - but I leave him for one measly day and he can't even manage that.

Seriously, why do people go out of their way to aggravate me?

First there's Newbie, with his inability to work on his own without me constantly looking over his shoulder and whipping him into shape, then there's Bobbo who is outright refusing to let me take another day off without consulting Jordon first, and then of course there's the Queen Bitch of the Underworld herself. Don't even get me started.

"It's a family outing Perry, are you telling me that you'd rather sit in some dingy bar drinking yourself into the early stages of liver failure, than spend one day off with your only son and me?"

I swear to God, I was just about ready to kill somebody. We spent the entire day wandering around shops. I did manage to get banned from one store just for shouting at one of their employees, which naturally, I feel a small amount of satisfaction at, but not enough to make up for the hell that was yesterday.

I growl as I pick up my patient files, one less than my last shift thanks to Carol, and open my mouth to start ranting at Carla who is standing behind the nurse's station glancing at the phone. "Where's Fiona?" I demand.

She comes out of her daze, and puts a hand on her hip, "don't you bother Bambi today Perry." She says. Hmm, the strong Latina woman act is it? I can break her.

I scoff, "Don't bother him - don't _bother_ him? I wouldn't dream of it, after all Newbie did manage to kill off one of my patients yesterday, why would I want to _bother_ him? It's not like it would be payback for him bothering me eh-very second of eh-very minute of eh-very day since he first started working in this hellhole of a hospital."

Carla stood her ground, "Perry," she says calmly, "JD's staying home. He's sick and I'm not having him coming in just so you can rant at him because you're stupid enough to let Jordan drag you around all day."

Stupid enough? Did she know what I would have been subjected to if I hadn't gone with Jordon? Jordon's not below anything; I remember pissing her off once by insulting a pair of her shoes and I woke up the next morning with no feeling in my lower extremities, no pants and no reason to why exactly I was outside tied to a tree.

I grind my teeth, "Newbie is going to come in today because we've got a lot of patients to get through, and even if he is a ridiculously incompetent doctor we need him here. So you just ring him up right now and tell him to get his ass in here or it won't be bedpans for three months, but three _years_."

I needn't have bothered trying to scare Carla into ringing because as soon as the words leave my mouth I see a bedraggled Newbie come through the doors. Besides, sometimes I swear, that woman is unshakeable.

"Katrina!" I yell. He snaps his eyes up to me like a deer caught in the headlights. "Get your ass over her right now," I whistle sharply, "_Now_!"

He obeys, as usual, and I shove the files into his arms as soon as he's near enough but it doesn't have the desired effect.

Newbie doesn't look so flash. He's pale and I'd notice the telltale blush of a fever even if I couldn't feel the heat coming off him in waves. He's got his forehead scrunched up too - a headache?

Hmmph, probably sick, but not sick enough to escape my wrath.

"Bambi, I told you to stay in bed." Comes Carla's voice, she's out from behind the nurse's station and looks ready to baby Newbie to within an inch of his life. I would say she was overreacting, but as a particularly scathing remark comes to my lips Newbie starts to wobble on his feet. I catch him by the shoulder to steady him, and press my lips together. I'm not concerned. I just don't want him to get me or anyone else in the hospital sick if it could be helped.

"Sorry, guess I'm just a little dizzy." He manages, blinking his blue eyes dazedly like some damn Barbie doll.

Carla takes the files from Newbie before he drops them, and deposits them back on the counter. "Bambi you need to get yourself checked out, I'll see if anyone's available, okay?"

I expect a smile from Newbie, or maybe a declaration of love for his adopted mother. What I don't expect is for him to cough wetly into his fist and use the other hand to hold his head. For God's sake he looks if he's about to keel over. I find myself guiding him to a chair by the wall. He's still coughing and doesn't seem to be able to stop, and I realise that I know that sound. That rattling sound he's making as he draws in another breath.

"Sit upright there Newbie." I say, shoving my stethoscope into my ears and pressing it against Newbie's thin scrubs top. Carla looks at me with concern and I can't help but share it a little. "There's fluid in his lungs." I say.

………

_JD's POV_

I feel awful. It was a stupid idea to come into work, but I thought that if I didn't I'd be letting Dr Cox down again. And it's better to take the wrath now rather than later when he'd been allowed to fume and make up a long degrading rant, right?

But now here I am being examined by a very angry looking Dr Cox while I try to keep from coughing. Damn it, I should have stayed in bed. I could be all snuggled down watching the end of _Titanic_ that Carla made us miss. Oh Jack, why did you let go?

"It's nothing to worry about," I tell my mentor, resting my aching head on my hand, "I must have breathed in some water last night when I fell asleep in the bath." I don't know why I'm keeping these headaches to myself. It could be to do with the murderous look on Dr Cox's face, but I think I'm a little scared to find out what's actually wrong with me.

Dr Cox growls, and lowers the stethoscope he's been using on my chest to better stare me in the eye. "Listen here Newbie. I'm not worried, this is not concern. In fact this feeling in me right now can only be described as pure anger that you'd be stupid enough to firstly, tell Jordon about my day off, secondly, to go ahead and kill one of my patients when I specifically ask you not to, and then finally, to come into work so you can infect anyone else whose lives you haven't managed to ruin yet."

My head begins to ache. "Sorry." I murmur.

"But you're right Newbie, looks like you inhaled a bit of bath water there. So it's nothing to 'worry about' and you seem to be coughing it out just fine. Of course looking at your fever flush and tired droopy eyes I'm guessing you were feeling sick _before_ you tried to drown yourself. Now I'm not gonna ask why you dragged your sorry ass in here, but I think you should go ahead and drag it right back out again. Get back to that apartment you share with your mother and your black girlfriend, and work on getting better so you can do your damn job."

I nod and cough, swallowing something slimy. Euww. I know there a small chance of catching an infection from this, but Dr Cox doesn't look too worried, quite the opposite in fact. He's staring at me as if I've turned his favourite soap opera off again.

I wonder what's wrong with me. I've been feeling tired, I'm having headaches, and I find it hard to concentrate. I'm a doctor; shouldn't I be trying to diagnose myself? I cough again, already feeling my lungs sigh out in gratitude, well at least it looks like the water's already working its way out. That's one less thing to worry about.

"Newbie, what the hell are you still doing here?" Dr Cox is still looking at me. I can't really tell if that's anger or worry creasing his brow. I know I've been sat staring into space as usual and when I don't answer he just says, "Huh," with his eyebrows raised and arms folded, and then he leaves.

The next thing I know Carla is there. She takes me by the arm and says she's going to drive me home, seeing as she doesn't want me on that death trap of mine when I'm poorly. I want to tell her that Sasha is anything but a death trap, and is actually a very safe mode of transportation, not to mention being good-looking to boot.

But I'm sleepy. And just follow her to her car.

…………

…………

_Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a review!_


	4. Chapter 4: Dr Cox's arms

_I like this chapter, I really do… it's a little fluffy, with a teeny bit o' hurt/comfort thrown in, and a side order of worried friends/mentor. Thanks for the reviews, they make me smile. I hope you like this. _

_Chapter 4: Dr Cox's arms_

…………

…………

_JD's POV_

My lungs feel much better. Stupid bath. As I get into the apartment and go to the bathroom to relieve myself, I glare at the bubble mix lying innocently on the shelf beside the mirror. It's all the darn bubbles' fault, tempting me into the tub with those evil penguin assassins.

I avert my eyes and look at myself in the mirror instead. J-Dizzle, you don't look so hot right now. It was a good job I was intending to stay in bed all day; I looked like one of those zombies in that film Turk made me watch... Well, maybe not _that_ bad, I mean I'm not ready to go hunting for meat and none of my arms are half-sawn off or anything. I touch the bags under my eyes with a startled finger.

I'm just a little pale, and a little worn around the edges. And there's a bruise just below my hairline that I don't remember getting, maybe from when I fell out of the bath…

Carla's waiting outside with her no nonsense face on. She's going to make a wonderful mum. "All done." I say brightly, almost expecting her to scrutinize my hands to see if I've washed them.

"Bambi, you're going straight to bed." She tells me. And I do exactly what she says because there's simply no messing with Carla Espinosa.

I exhaustedly change into a t-shirt and sweatpants, thinking I should buy another onesie because they are the comfiest pyjamas on the planet and one is simply not enough to own when it gets dirty so quick.

Ah, snooze time.

I feel like I've spent most of my time in this bed, even though as a doctor I've probably spent less time here than any normal person could cope with. It's just that I've been so tired lately. If you say the word 'bed' to me, I'd likely just melt into a pile of goo at your feet.

"Mm bed…" I mumble into my pillow. And just sleep.

………

I get a few hours shut eye before I'm woken by someone sitting gently on the cover next to my curled legs, causing the mattress to dip. Cracking my eyes open I see that it's Carla with a tray of soup.

"Hey," I say tiredly. I wonder how long I've been asleep and glance at the alarm clock. Just a few hours. Looks like Carla came home on her lunch shift to check up on me.

"Hey Bambi, I thought you'd be hungry," she says, I sit up and she places the tray on my lap. It's chicken soup with stars, and my stomach growls in appreciation. "The stars always make things better." I whisper.

Carla's phone begins to ring and she answers it impatiently once she sees who it is. "It's all right Turk, I'm with JD now. He's fine baby, yes he's eating it," she looks at me exasperatedly, and rolls her eyes, "I owe you a twenty, he _did_ say the stars would make it better…" I smile around the spoon in my mouth; my Chocolate bear knows me inside and out. "All right, hang on."

Carla sighs and hands me the phone, I stop slurping at my soup and place it to my ear. "Hey C-Bear," I say.

Carla rolls her eyes and mutters something about Turk loving me more than her, but I can barely hear it over Turk's "Vanilla bear! How you feeling? I _told_ ya you weren't looking too good man." He then starts to warble on about the crappy day he's been having at work without me. I know how he feels; I hate it when there's a day without Turk at the hospital. Nobody understands me like my Chocolate bear.

I imagine that we're on a Quiz Show.

The Quiz host, with an enormous blonde quiff on his head, holds up a question card, "And for the grand prize, Dr Christopher Turk, can you tell me… what is JD thinking right now?"

Turk just grins, looks me in the eyes and says, "That's easy! Unicorns buddy, it's always unicorns when he's nervous."

I nod enthusiastically and as the confetti falls from the ceiling and klaxons sound, I run over to hug my C-bear, my imaginary unicorns following me all the way.

" - Hey JD man, I'm still here! Are you daydreaming?"

I blink a little, remembering I'm on the phone. "Yeah… sorry man."

"It was the whole quiz show unicorn thing wasn't it?"

My smile is so big, I feel like I've swallowed a huge slice of watermelon. "You _do_ know everything about me! I love you Chocolate bear…"

We talk for a further ten minutes before Carla growls at me and I hurriedly say goodbye and snap her phone shut. She has to go back to work and before she leaves she smoothes back the hair from my eyes, then takes up my finished soup bowl and tray. "I'm gonna leave you to sleep Bambi, but I'll be back around 6. If you need anything you just call, okay?"

I nod sleepily and barely hear the door close before I'm out like a light.

…………..

_Carla's POV_

Bambi didn't ring all afternoon so as Turk and I get into the apartment we head straight for his room. He's there curled up under the covers with his face buried in his pillow. It doesn't look like he's moved since I left him at lunch; he must have slept right through the afternoon.

"Aww…" I hear Turk say.

I know what he means, Bambi is snuggling into the covers, and I bet he's dreaming. "Stay here," I whisper with a smile, touching Turk's arm, "I'm gonna go get the camera."

It was then I realised that we tend to treat Bambi like our child. I snapped a quick shot of him because he looked so damn adorable, and pushed the thought aside. So what if we happen to care about Bambi, it was good practice for when we do have children, right? I don't mother him too much. It's just my nature, I care.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Turk asks.

I kiss his nose, "No let's leave him to sleep it out. I'm sure if we let him rest he'll be back to his old self tomorrow."

Turk likes the idea of that, I knew he would.

…………

_Dr Cox's POV_

It was warm out, and as such I'd had a good run this morning and was gracing the hallways of Sacred Heart with the smell of my musk. Carla wrinkles her nose at me from the nurse's station. She's just envious of my perfect pecs, seeing as that chubby boyfriend of hers can't stop guzzling down sugar long enough to have the time to go for a run before his feet fall off.

"Carla," I nod at her. She's back to her usual cheery self today, so I have the suspicion Newbie's finally going to be in. For some reason, I get this strange feeling in my stomach when I think of that kid… and I can't help thinking that maybe I should have been more thorough when I was examining him. Just in case.

"I know you're concerned about him Perry, you can ask."

How did she-? I growl, baring my teeth. "I am nawt 'concerned'." I haven't used my air quotes quite enough these past few days, so I over-emphasise them now, and then snatch up my charts, "He better get his ass in here, do you know how many patients I've had to cover for him?"

Carla just gives me a knowing smile and says, "Come on, I _know_ you're worried. It's understandable. He does follow you around like a little lost puppy so you're bound to miss him, even if it is just because of your huge ego…" she folds her arms, "you're only lying to yourself you know."

Laverne does her usual "Mmmhmm, he knows it," behind her and I shake my head with as much force as I can without snapping my neck in two. "Grr." Is what I manage to say. Not very articulate but it gets the point across.

"Well anyway," continues Carla, putting some files in the rack, "in answer to your un-asked question, yes, you don't have to worry because Bambi's coming in today. He's feeling much better and was asleep for most of the day yesterday. It must have been a bug going around."

I allow a fake smile of utter glee to spread across my face, and start jumping in the air and clapping my hands. This gets me an amused smirk from Carla and a shake of Laverne's head, "Oh _gosh_! I'm just so darn happy that Barbara's feeling like she can actually come in and do her damn job for once!"

They decide to ignore me and I storm towards the entrance, ignoring their meaningful glances at each other, my eyes squinting as I search for any sign of Newbie.

And this is not because I'm worried about him, but only because I want to torture him. I've had an entire two days of not torturing Newbie, and if I slack off now - well he'll try to get in sneaky hugs and start braiding my hair, and god damn it, I wasn't going to allow him to indulge in any more girlish fantasies lest he actually turn into a woman.

My eyes snap to the doors. There he is.

"Shirley," I greet the bedraggled Newbie as he makes his way into the hospital.

"Dr Cox," he says, hitching up the backpack he has on his shoulder, "look I'm sorry about the other day…"

"Oh, shut _up_." I tell him, and dump my files on his girly arms, only feeling mildly annoyed that they don't manage to tip him over like they had before. He still struggles with them. You're not concerned for the kid, I remind myself. In fact, you're still angry.

Another growl erupts from my throat, and it seems to have the desired effect as Newbie shrinks back away from me, clutching the patient files to his chest.

Still got it.

As we pass Carla she makes a point of sniffing at me and I realise again that I'm still covered in sweat from my morning work out. Even though most of the people here deserve to know what a real man smells like, the smell of sickly strawberry radiating from Newbie is enough to remind me that I should probably go shower.

But then again, I'm most likely making Newbie feel inadequate with my manly scent, so maybe I won't.

I grin, "Fill your lungs, Newbie; this is as close to a real man as you're going to get."

He sniffs obediently - I think I've trained him too well - and his eyes go out of focus. He's daydreaming. Probably about his wish to become a real man, I hope I don't feature in it. "I could bottle it and use it as perfume." He says, grinning goofily as he comes back to himself.

… Was he just daydreaming about bottling my _sweat_? That's it; I'm going to shower. Sometimes, he disturbs even me. "There's something wrong with you Newbie, and whatever it is, it's no little thing. Now I'm off for a shower, and if you dare follow me or bother me I will hit you. Re-he-ally hard."

Newbie nods understandingly, and I somehow wish the kid would just stand up for himself for once. "Sure thing Dr Cox." He chirps.

"Oh, and Petunia – try not to kill anyone else while I'm gone!" I growl over my shoulder. The last thing I see as I head around the corner, is Newbie's smile begin to falter.

………

_JD's POV_

Now brain, I'm going to tell you the truth, but you must promise not to tell anyone else about this.

The thing is… I don't… I don't feel better. Not really. I mean I'm so grateful that my body's been able to rest for a whole day, but that's just the problem… after sleeping for so long, I know that I'm not supposed to feel this tired. Whatever this is hasn't been fixed by a good night's sleep and to be honest, it doesn't feel like anything I've felt before. I can't keep pushing it to the back of mind.

This morning it wasn't so bad. Carla was smiling, Turk was excitedly telling me I had his 'baby's' approval to go to work today so we could meet up in our lunch break and play _toe-finger_, Dr Cox was ranting, Elliot was ecstatic because her new straighteners finally came in the post, and the Janitor flicked a pea into my face as I came through the doors…

In other words, everything was normal. And I didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise.

But now that I'm an hour or two into my shift, the room is beginning to blur. It's strange. The hospital's melting into blobs of colour around me, and I'm reminded of that time when Turk and I put a packet of Skittles in the microwave to see what would happen.

They exploded. It was so pretty… but dangerous too, those sweets were darn hot. Not to self: never microwave sweets and then lick them off the walls, no matter _how_ appetizing they look.

I blink to get my vision back and it works for a little while. I hear a sharp whistle and know that that's Dr Cox trying to get my attention, my suspicions are confirmed when he grabs me by the shoulder and hurls me into pace beside him.

I should tell him that there's something wrong with me, I should tell him… wow, there's all the colours of the rainbow in this place….

"Newbie, Mr. Jefferson needs an LP, pronto."

"Sure," I hear myself say, my vision coming back as we round a corner, "and uh… I've scheduled Mrs Harvey's surgery for late this afternoon; a nurse should be prepping her soon."

Dr Cox looks a little surprised that I've managed to hold my own in the time I've had to myself. I mean I have been away for a day… "Good." He says and pats my arm.

And that's when it happens.

………

_Dr Cox's POV_

One minute everything's going fine, I'm spouting off medical treatments and Newbie's lapping them up as usual like a good little lapdoggy. But then something changes and he slows as we're walking down the corridor and stops to lean against the wall.

"Hey," I whistle and he glances up, "we haven't got time to wait around here Doris."

"Sorry… I just." He lowers his head shakily. "Dr Cox… I think something's wrong with me."

I roll my eyes, "Then go see a doctor on your own time. God knows where you'd find one of those."

He doesn't smile, or look offended, or make any of the usual 'Newbie-like' responses to my jibe. His grip curls on the wall as if he's in pain.

"Newbie?" I get closer without even telling my legs to do so.

He's flushed and for some reason I'm fixating on these small bruises he has on his hands. And then there's no time to think of anything else, as he collapses right into my arms like some kind of fainting floozy. Shit! I struggle to keep him upright and end up lowering him gently against the wall.

"I need a gurney over here!" I yell as I fumble to find Newbie's pulse. He's pale and feverish. "Wakey wakey sunshine kid." I say, tapping his face lightly and trying not to give a crap. But God damn it, my heart is pounding in my ears, "Newbie?" I say again. But he's out. His pulse is slow and "For God's sake, where is that gurney?!"

You'd think that the best place to collapse would be in a hospital. But I swear this one's just full of stupid incompetent -

"Dr Cox!" I glance up in relief, but it soon turns into a scowl when I realise that it's Barbie. Once she sees Newbie passed out she automatically lives up to her Bimbo name by jumping to conclusions, "Oh my god," she says covering her mouth, "did you hit him again?"

"_What_?" I snap angrily. She thinks I hit him. I almost wish I had; then I'd be in control of the situation. As it is I have no idea what is going on, so just fall back on my anger and bark at her, "No, you _idiot_. Get me a damn gurney, he just collapsed."

She runs off, hopefully to get me a gurney and not just because I scared her with my half-angry-half-terrified act I've got going on.

Before I know it I have a small gathering on my hands. Dear God, this is a hospital - things like this happen every day, why the hell have they chosen this occasion to get involved? I try to keep Newbie upright against the wall. Come on Barbie, the gurney any time soon would be good.

"Who's that?"

"Dr Cox, what happened?"

"V-bear? Is that -"

There's a screech of wheels. Barbie. "Shoo!" I growl at the crowd and they skitter out of the way like nervous ants.

I lift Newbie up, one arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees. Bridal style. Oh if only he were awake to enjoy this, surely this was better than that stupid hug he'd been begging for. He'd be giggling with so much girly happiness it would make me physically sick… only he's not awake. And he isn't giggling; he isn't making a damn sound.

I lay him down on the gurney surprising even myself at the gentleness. But he's pale and unresponsive, and after the initial gossiping that's been going on, people finally begin to spring into action.

Before I know it Newbie's been whisked off without me and I'm left within the throng of onlookers.

I push away whoever it is that's asking me stupid questions, and almost run after the gurney; people parting in front of me immediately as I don't even try to hide the look on my face.

What the _hell_ just happened?

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_Please review; it'll help me write the next chapter as I'm not too sure about how the plot's going to turn out yet…_


	5. Chapter 5: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

_Wow, I'm brimming with childish glee at having so much feedback! 42 reviews - my favourite number. Thank you so much, I hope I remembered to reply to you all. Thought I'd try out a new perspective, so there's a little Laverne in this one. This is a kind of filler chapter, building up to the next one where we finally find out what's wrong with JD. _

_Chapter 5: Sitting, Waiting,Wishing._

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_Laverne's POV_

I've had my whole church praying for Q-tip. Since he collapsed yesterday the whole place has been up in chaos, and Dr Cox has been flitting about like a bird as if he doesn't know where to put himself. I ain't never seen anything like it. Well… we _all_ knew he cared about Dr Dorian, a blind man could see that. I just wonder whether he can bring himself to tell that poor kid how he feels.

Lord knows Q-tip's been wanting a hug from Dr Cox since the very first day he started working here.

I watch with my eyebrow raised as Dr Cox rounds the corner. Someone oughta tell him he needs to sleep; I mean I haven't seen him stop since it happened, and I know he had a full shift before then. He'll be of no use to anyone if he collapses like Q-tip did; we're already one good doctor down.

I feel like telling him in my no-nonsense voice to get his ass into one of the on call rooms, but he isn't really aware of anyone as he stalks down the corridor, and I dare say he wouldn't hear me even if I tried.

Instead I decide to call out to the Janitor, who hasn't yet cleaned up that mess down the hall that keeps causing people to fall over and bother me for plasters. "Hey!" I sat sassily, one hand on my hip, "You realise if you don't do your job, I'm gonna have to stop praying for your soul." But he ignores me too and just trails his mop along the floor even though there's nothing to clean up.

Hmm, I guess we didn't realise how much Q-tip affected us all. Such a ray of sunshine that kid is - a damn good doctor too, even if he does take everything the Lord throws at him to heart. He gives out so many smiles it's no small wonder he has a mouth left to bother Dr Cox with.

I don't know if we can take losing that kid. This hospital's lost a great many people in its time, some when it was their moment to go, and some when they'd barely taken a breath of this air. I've been around to watch them leave this world, and although I know that God would have a special place for young Dr Dorian, I don't think anyone here is willing to let him go yet.

I mean, it's only been a few hours and things already seem to be going to pot around here without him. I guess I'm the one who's going to have to be everyone's rock as usual... I place my Jesus figure on the desk and point him towards that room down the hall that's got everyone so occupied.

"Jesus is watching over you Q-tip," I murmur softly, "you've got nothing to worry about."

Lord, I hope that's the case. I know for damn sure how much this is affecting my nurse Carla and that hot shot surgeon of hers. She's been staring down the corridor for the best part of an hour, I know that her _Bambi_'s room is down there, you can even see into it from here, but she's doing her best to do her job even though her mind's completely elsewhere.

"Honey," I tell her, softly so that no one can hear for once. I wonder where my usual gossipy self has gone. I guess Q-tip's collapse has wilted even _my_ fighting spirit, "why don't you take a break? I'm taking over for a while. And don't give me any attitude, 'cause I know there's somewhere you'd rather be."

She's got the makings of tears in her eyes, but I ignore them because Nurse Carla Espinosa never cries. She's always been a strong one, just like me.

She shakes her head a little, "No, no it's all right -"

Oh no, I don't think so. When I say break, she'll take a break. "I _said_ don't give me attitude. Now move your ass out of here, you know how I get when people don't take me seriously."

Carla wipes her eyes and fixes me with such a look of gratitude that I feel myself wanting to give her a hug. Only I _don't_ hug. "Thanks Laverne. But give me a call if things get crowded okay?"

"Sure thing honey, now scat."

Her smile's watery, but its there. "You're a good friend."

"Oh you don't need to tell me that," I say, raising my eyebrows, "I _know_," and gently push her out of the nurse's station. I watch her run down the hall as if her life depends on it and cover a smile. Even if things do get a bit hectic back here there's no way in heaven I'm going to call her back.

No sir. No way, no how.

…………

_Dr Cox's POV_

Newbie sure scared the shit out of me.

Damn it, I think maybe I do care. Maybe. Am I even capable of…?

No, come on. God no, of course not. Percival Cox doesn't have a heart - there's not even a space where a heart should go, there's just rock hard muscle and Scotch and beer.

Besides… even if I _did_ have a heart, it would be blacker and deader than both Jordan's and Bobbo's put together and incapable of feeling anything, let alone affection. This damn hospital sure took care of that.

I'm just frustrated that the kid had to collapse in front of me. He must have known something was wrong, but did he think to open his big girly mouth and let us all in on it? No way; not Lilly. No, he'll just practice his pathetically dramatic fainting act right into my arms. Stupid kid.

But my anger doesn't explain why I keep checking up on him every ten minutes. Skulking round his doorway. Sneaking looks into his room when I think no one else is looking. For God's sake, I may as well go in there and hold his damn hand.

I think Newbie's turned me feminine by association, maybe my muscles will disappear soon and my hair will mousse up and smell like coconut and flowers and unicorn sick - god damn it I feel dirty. I've gotta get this stink off me.

Maybe I'll got take a shower to get my mind off things - if that idiotic surgeon's not in there strutting around in his banana hammock that is. It'll beat moping around waiting for Francis to open her big blue eyes…

He hasn't woken up yet, it's been a whole day and he's just lying there. It's the quietest I've ever seen him, and for some reason that doesn't really make me happy. Well he's not bugging me, so I guess that's a plus.

… You should have seen his gal pals' faces.

We never even saw this coming, sure the kid was sick for a while, but it was nothing serious. But now, hell, I can't get that image of his face out of my mind. It was a look I'd seen on many of my patients' faces; the ICU look, the insipidly sickly look, the I'm-about-to-keel-over-dear-god-why-hasn't-anyone-noticed look.

Shit.

Ghandi took it the worst, and I know those two are practically sisters, but it scared even me to see him completely freak out and nawt let go of Newbie's hand. He was gripping onto it like his life depended on it.

"Good God Ghandi he does need those fingers, you know for doctoring and the like, which you wouldn't understand I'm sure seeing as you haven't got two brain cells to rub together. Give the kid some damn space!" But he didn't let go until Carla arrived and gently pried away his fingers so they could get Newbie suited up in his new shiny hospital gear.

I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. Yeah, you guessed it; I'm outside Newbie's room again. Watching him like some god damn protective father figure or something… my shrink would be having a field day with this one.

God knows why but it's on the kid's record that I'm his primary physician, so I've made it my mission not to go into his room unless it's for professional purposes. As soon as I enter through that doorway I've got to be in doctor mode, but that doesn't mean that while I'm here on the threshold, watching over him from the outside, that I can't act like his… like his…

I turn away and flick my nose angrily at some interns… oh my god, are they actually – are they actually _spying_ on me? I growl. Bet they think the Great Dr Cox is turning soft or something. Either that or they think I'm the one who put Newbie in there.

Well, let them think whatever the hell they want. I bare my teeth at them in a feral snarl, and they freeze as they realise they've been caught and then they can't leg it away from me fast enough.

I take up a seat by the nurse's station. It's not far from Newbie's room and you can glance through the window, you now, if you felt the sudden urge, I'm pretty sure that's what Laverne's doing… She's whipped out her Jesus figurine, as if that's the answer to all life's problems. Yeah, right.

Had to take Lillian's blood for tests, and well, I mean Carla did the procedure, for some reason my hands started shaking as soon as I got near the kid. Must have been the lack of sleep, and the bucket loads of coffee I'd chugged down in order to get the lack of sleep…

"It's okay Perry," Carla told me, taking the syringe from my fingers because for some reason I couldn't move them myself, I couldn't do anything but look at him. Pale and just plain un-Newbie-like.

He's always been pale, comes with being a nerdy girly freak of nature. We'll probably get the results back and find out Newbie's been starving himself to fit into that new dress he's been admiring but never bought 'cause his hips were the wrong side of shapely.

I don't know why everyone's so worried, he's gonna be fine. Nothing keeps Newbie down for long. God knows I've been trying to get him to leave me alone for years, but he still hangs on by the skin of his pigtails, wining and prancing and being a girl. Much to my growing annoyance.

The kid's a fighter.

…………

_JD's POV_

There's a soft rhythmic beeping. It's familiar. The hospital… Am I in the on call room? But the bed's a little too wide for that, the covers more clinical, and there's no snoring from the next bed from whoever is unlucky enough to be bunking with me.

I open my eyes and squint as the light gets in and burns my poor unsuspecting retinas.

"Hey," I hear from someone, and turn my head towards the sound, wincing at the sudden ache behind my eyes. The blinds are quickly drawn and I sigh in gratitude. It allows me to take in my surroundings; I see that I'm in a hospital bed with an IV dripping into my arm and a very worried looking Elliot at my bedside.

Oh no.

"What happened..?" I ask softly. And then I say "Oh," as it all comes flooding back.

I collapsed in Dr Cox's arms.

Oh my god, he's going to kill me. Or maim me. Or both.

Hmm… did he catch me or just let me flop onto the floor? I hope he held me for a little bit, because even if I was unconscious, a hug is a hug is a hug. I ponder asking Elliot that, but she already asking me a question of her own.

"Oh my god JD, how are you feeling?"

I'm feeling like I did that time me and Turk stayed up for three days solid to watch every episode of Gilmore Girls between shifts… Tired, exhausted and worn… I feel… "Great." I say with the biggest smile I can manage. It must not look like I want it to because Elliot doesn't smile back, she just takes up one of my hands in her cold ones.

Her fingers are like popsicles.

"Your fingers are like popsicles," I tell her sleepily.

She nods absentmindedly, not hearing a word I've said, which is good because I didn't mean to say anything at all. "We've all been so worried about you JD," She says. I notice that she's not wearing her scrubs, just a plain top and jeans, so she must be off work. I wonder how long she's been sat there waiting for me to wake up.

"Sorry." I murmur tiredly, because I don't know what else to say. I don't want to worry anyone, especially not my friends.

"It's okay JD, but oh my god, I swear I was going to have a heart attack!" there's the Elliot I know, I brace myself for the onslaught of words, "I mean, I came down to tell Carla about Mr. Peterson who totally just hit on me, which is freaky because he's about a _hundred_ years old - anyway, you were lying on the floor with Dr Cox fussing over you and I thought he'd knocked you out, you know, because he's always wanted to…but apparently you'd just collapsed out of nowhere."

Oh god, how many people saw me faint? I'm going to be prime gossip material at the nurse's station.

"You should see him," Elliot carries on, "he's been going absolutely crazy not knowing what's wrong with you, well crazi_er_ anyway. He's kind of been keeping guard outside your door, which while I admit, is a little bit creepy; it's actually kind of sweet even if he is scaring everyone else away..."

Wait… Dr Cox was worried about me?

I find myself smiling for real this time, my heart fluttering with hope. Does this mean I'll finally get my hug off him, now that he realises that he cares? Maybe I'll try to get a sneak one in when I see him next. Just a quick one… I'd pop in like a dart and cuddle his middle; maybe if I get his arms in a tight hold, he won't be able to fend me off…

I love hugzies…even unrequited ones.

"Where's Turk?" I ask, noticing the distinct lack of my comforting brown bear. I want him here; one of his hugs would be even better than Dr Cox's right now and truth be told, I'm feeling a little scared. I need my Chocolate bear.

"He's asleep," Elliot supplies awkwardly, "well Carla drugged him actually… he wouldn't leave your bedside and he's been up for over a day, so, yeah, Carla's just gone to check on him. But we've all been here JD, we missed you…"

While Elliot continues to ramble on, I try to do a check on myself. My fingers find a bruise on my forehead and then they shakily run through my hair, and I can only think about the state it must be in. I sure wish I had my styling wax, if I was going to be stuck in bed at least I could look good.

And then Dr Cox is suddenly in the room, pushing Elliot out of the way like a blonde curtain.

I guess I must have zoned out. I decide I only like zoning out when there's a suitable daydream to accompany it, so I turn my attention to the real world, smiling dopily.

Wow. Dr Cox looks as if he hasn't slept in a week! His hair's curlier than usual and slightly manic on his head making him look a little insane… like one of those crazy professors on TV who invent time travel machines out of cars…

I guess we're both having a bad hair day today; maybe I should lend him my hair gel? I wonder if he'd appreciate the gesture, or whether he'd just slap me silly and call me a girl. Ah, who am I kidding, of course it would be the latter.

I find myself a little worried now that Dr Cox is here, not because he's going to rant at me for fainting (that's a given), but because he's my attending. Maybe he knows what's wrong with me already.

"How're you feeling there Newbie?" he asks and I don't know how to answer, seeing as he's never ever asked me that question before unless it's followed by 'gimmie a break Charlotte, you know I don't give a rat's ass!'.

It doesn't matter that I don't know what to say, because Dr Cox doesn't wait for a response; instead he flips up my chart and asks me all the usual doctor-y questions:

_Pain?_ Head, general aches, think I bruised my noggin.

_Fainted before?_ Not really… fell over a few times.

_Symptoms?_ Dizziness… pretty tired… fever… headaches…

Dr Cox stops his writing in my chart and looks at me. I wonder how bad I must look for him to furrow his brow, in that way he does when he's either concerned or angry, and move closer. I almost recoil as he puts his hand on my head.

He wouldn't hit you, silly. He likes you now… and it only took you collapsing in front of him for him to admit that he cares, perhaps you should have done this sooner. "You've got a pretty bad fever there Jocelyn." Dr Cox tells me, blue eyes alight with something unreadable.

Elliot fiddles with the edge of my blanket as if she thinks she's interrupting something.

"So… you know what's wrong with me yet?" I start, trying to get my usual grin to stay on my face.

The corners of Dr Cox's mouth curl, "Oh there's a lo-_hot_ of things Newbie, believe me." And then he gets all serious. "But good going hiding your symptoms there, just like a real doctor should. I gotta say - you're some role model for your patients Rosetta."

I glance away embarrassedly, my cheeks flushing. Although that may be with fever too, I am a little warm.

Thing is, I know I should have told someone. But for once in our lives things seemed to be going right, and everyone was happy. When you're a doctor you just don't get many of those moments, and when they come along you cling onto them for dear life, like you would a balloon that's holding you up above a lake of fire...

"I didn't want to ruin it."

It's a moment before I realise I've just said the last bit out loud. Oopsie. I join Elliot with fiddling nervously with the blanket.

Dr Cox's expression makes a flawless transition from 'Coxian Concern' to what I like to call the 'Coxian Death Glare'. It's not something you want directed at you unless you're wearing a helmet with a strong reflective visor, unfortunately I don't have one to hand at the moment. In fact, I don't have anything to hand, seeing as I'm lying here in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.

"Ruin _what_ exactly Jessica?" Dr Cox growls, "Because you sure as hell ruined a great day yesterday, scaring your gal pals half to death with your fainting act. I mean, for God's sake, I know how desperately you wanted me to sweep you up in my arms, but, Janice, there are easier ways to go about it than hiding the fact you're ill until you just darn _have_ to collapse. All you had to do was ask me in your whiny girly voice and I would've gladly swept you up in my arms, of course what would follow would be me running up to the roof of this damn hospital and hurling you the hell off of it into the roaring traffic below. God _damn_ it Gillian…"

He sure is mad at me.

"It was just a few headaches," I say to my fingers that are curled on the covers. Dr Cox's glare is burning a hole in my skull. It's so painful in fact that I raise my hands to cradle my head. I gasp a little and the world smears as if it's made of paint.

Owwie. Owwie. Owwie.

"Hey… you all right there Newbie?"

Not… not really. I blink dazedly at him. You're head's a big red... angry blur… and I'm much too warm… In fact I wouldn't be surprised to see if I'd turned into a very big human shaped piece of toast.

"I'm okay, don't worry." I say, voice slurring a little as the pain goes back down. And I remove my hands from my head, afraid of showing anyone how much this hurts.

A knowing grunt. Dr Cox.

"Just go back to sleep Buttercup. It's what you're good for."

That sounds like a perfect idea. The tiredness sinks onto me like an enormous towel muffling my senses; the sounds, the room, even the smell of disinfectant, are fading away… and I feel myself sinking back into the pillows because I suddenly can't hold my head up anymore.

I realise that Dr Cox hasn't bristled at my 'don't worry' comment, and I want to ask him about it… but my eyes are closing. No, gotta stay awake… Dr Cox is… caring… stupid brain…

"JD?" that's Elliot. I know because her hands really _are_ freezing against my skin. She needs mittens.

"Leave him along would ya Barbaroo, he's just tired." It takes me a minute to realise that's Dr Cox speaking, because his voice is surprisingly gentle. "We're not going to know what's wrong with him 'til we…"

The beeping is slowing along with my breathing. My movements sluggish and heavy as I try to push back the covers a little. I'm burning up. Hot and tired… and tired and hot.

"… blood cultures…"

Sleep.

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_Please review :) it makes the world a little brighter. _


	6. Chapter 6: It's Okay

_I can't thank my reviewers enough :) you make me want to write. Sorry for the wait, it's an extra long chapter to make up for it._

_Chapter 6: It's okay_

………

………

_Turk's POV_

I can't believe my baby actually drugged me - no wait, I can _totally_ believe it. That's how Carla works, she moves behind the scenes like a ninja, I guess being a nurse means people just don't suspect you of being capable of drugging poor unsuspecting people, trying to look after their best buds…

So yeah, I was still holding on to JD's hand, and yeah I hadn't slept in a long time. But I mean, this isn't just some patient, it's _JD_.

"Turk, honey, I brought you some coffee." Carla had said, one hand on her hip and the other holding a nice steamy cup of liquid. "Listen, do you think you can stay awake and look after Bambi for me?"

I was taken in by it. "Of course I can woman! I'm indestructible. And could you get me a muffin or something, my blood sugar's a little low…" and so I gulped down the coffee hoping I could manage to last the night, and make sure my Vanilla bear was all right… I only tasted the strange chalky taste once I saw the bottom of the styrofoam cup.

My Carla's one _sneaky_ Latina.

Anyway, I woke up a couple of seconds ago to my baby shaking me. She looks apologetic, which she damn well better be. I always promised JD that I'd be there for him; it's what being brother bears is all about. I'm chocolate, he's vanilla, we go together like… well like chocolate and vanilla! I've always got his back and I need to be there for him, you know?

"You drugged me…" I pout miserably at her, hugging the pillow on the couch. I'm in the lounge, and I gotta tell you, I have no idea how they managed to move me all the way from JD's room to here. I kinda hope that Laverne and the Todd weren't involved.

"I know, I'm sorry baby. But you'll be happy to know that JD's awake. And don't you give me those eyes; I'll make up for it later. Besides, you know you'd be no good to anyone being all tired and droopy like you were."

Aw man, I don't care about sulking that I missed it. Whether I admit it or not, that woman owns my ass…

And none of it matters in the slightest, 'cause JD is awake, and he's gonna get the biggest chocolate hug of his life!

So I spring to my feet and run down the corridor and past the nurse's station, getting one of Laverne's famous eye brow lifts as I skid by.

"Chocolate bear is in the house!"

I do my I'm-so-happy-my-vanilla-bear's-awake dance as soon as I get to his room, but the effect's kinda lost when I see JD lying on his side on the bed with his eyes closed and I realise that I'm a little too late to catch him. He's asleep again.

Hey man, it's okay. He sure looks exhausted. And pale too, I mean even paler than when I met him at college and he didn't used to go outside. I've never seen him look this way before - if you don't count that time he fell asleep in the bath and scared the crap out of me. He's always been full of life. All happiness and smiles, nerdyness and girly hair. That's my V-bear.

I make to sit on the chair beside him, squeezing his shoulder in that brotherly way we do.

Then I jump half a mile when he sits up and says "I gotcha C-bear!"

The girly shriek is not me. I swear.

"Vanilla bear! Man, you scared me!"

We hug. You know a manly hug, but I'm worried so I allow myself to squish JD more than usual and it lasts for quite a while. He doesn't seem to mind. His head is warm, and I think that's sweat beading on his brow.

"I love you Chocolate bear." He says into my shoulder. I let him go, patting him on the back and sitting on the bed mindful of his feet, my heart melting a little. If there's anyone who can bring out my feminine side it's JD, and I sure as hell don't mind showing it to him right now. He looks like he needs it.

See it's like this, some people get better with surgery, some get better with medication, but JD – he gets better with hugs. Hell, any kind of comfort and affection is just what he lives for. Why the hell else would he follow Dr Cox around all day long? That man's kind of like the ultimate goal to my vanilla bear… I've tried to tell JD that the guy's an ass, but he won't stop until he gets that damn hug of his.

"I love you too V-bear." I say, and I mean it. "In a manly way." I add, even though he knows. "And dude, I don't even mind telling you that you scared the life out of me back there."

JD blinks tiredly but smiles, and of course I forgive him for scaring me. We still don't know what's up with him, but I know it can't be anything too serious right? I mean JD _never_ gets anything serious; he just jumps right back up again when he's knocked down.

Just like when I'm kicking his ass at basketball – I mean he's got smacked in the face so many times with that ball that I'm just waiting for the day when he stops trying and sits on the sidelines. I mean, white dudes just can't play basket ball.

But my Vanilla bear never gives up.

"Dude," I grin, "now that you're finally in hospital as a patient, you wanna play 'get Nurse Tisdale to give you a sponge bath'?"

JD's face light up like there's a new season of Gilmore Girls, a dopey grin on his face, "Oh, you bet SCB!"

………

_JD's POV_

Turk knows exactly how to cheer me up; he's my Chocolate bear and can always bring out my smiles. And even though I don't get that sponge bath, I still get a nice eyeful of Nurse Tisdale's cleavage when Turk _accidentally_ knocks over my chart like the true friend that he is.

I'm waiting tiredly for Dr Cox to come back with my test results. The whole gang is here now, wanting to be around in case… well, just in case.

I smile, "It's probably nothing," I say, not really knowing how to reassure them. But it probably is nothing. I'll be back to my gloriously skilful doctoring in no time! I sure hope my patients are doing okay, I should really ask Doctor Cox how they're doing.

"Yeah." says my Chocolate bear, "Well I don't know about you guys, but all this sitting and waiting just ain't my style," and he's right. Turk is more of an action kinda guy, like James Bond, whereas I'm the sit-think-and-dream partner in our relationship, rather like a fluffy cloud.

"You're James Bond and I'm a cloud." I say dreamily.

"I know dude," says Turk, "you've told me that before." Then he fishes out a set of cards that he just so happens to have in his pocket "Hey, do any of you guys not suck at cards?"

Hmm. I _knew_ Turk was the one playing strip poker with my patients! That explains why Miss Hottie-in-room-202 wasn't wearing her gown when I went to check her temperature... gave me quite a fright I can tell you.

For once I decide to let the poker thing slide at the thought of taking my mind off things.

"Hells yeah, C-bear! I'm in." I sit up, Carla fluffing the pillow for me as if it's a reflex.

What would I do without my friends right now? They're all here for me; I mean they've even switched their shifts around just so they can sit with me and play cards before I find out… I want to tell them how grateful I am but I just can't find the words. So I smile like I always do, and just hope that they know.

"Oh! Me! I'm up for playing, just so long as it's not poker," says Elliot, pulling up a chair closer to my bedside, "I can never win at that - and I know what you're thinking, it's not because I'm not good," she clarifies, blowing her hair out of her eyes, "just that my face is too honest."

We end up playing Go Fish; because that's the one game we all know how to play.

Carla's surprisingly good at it, and soon enough we're all laughing and joking, Elliot trying to get away with cheating by hiding cards under my blanket and Carla slapping Turk playfully on the shoulder as she wins for the fifth time in a row.

I swear she must have X-ray vision. As I think this I try to cover up my cards with my blanket to fend off her peeking eyes, only to find a wad of Elliot's hidden ones already under there…

"Uh oh, you are so _busted_ Elliot." I say grinning.

"Frick JD!"

"Elliot, would you stop cheating already? There's just no way you can beat me, _nobody_ beats a Dominican. Am I right Turk?"

"She's right… There's no beating my baby when she gets all pushy and competitive."

"What?!"

Turk edges away, grumbling, "Baby, I'm tired of this game… can't we play strip poker?"

Elliot freaks at the suggestion. "_No_ Turk! That's highly inappropriate for work don't you think? Besides, my washing machine isn't working so I had to fall back on my Granny pants today and not only do they not really match my bra, but they've got a little stain on them from when I was really depressed after my stylist got my hair colour wrong – it was like hooker blonde and not sophisticated slutty blonde like I asked for – so you know, I spent the day on the couch eating ice cream and crying over pictures of my high school German teacher Herr Guten… He had the _most_ amazing eyes... I sometimes wish he'd just eat me up like he did those poor girls in the eighth grade…"

She fiddles absently with her hair, eyes out of focus for a minute, and then she get's back to the point.

"Anyway there's no way anyone is seeing my pants!"

I'm sure there was some reason in there somewhere, but Elliot sure is crazy sometimes.

"Yeah I have to agree with Elliot." I say, my eyes off to the side, "I don't really wanna play _strip_ poker, seeing as I've only got this thin hospital gown protecting the world from my man giblets…"

"You gotta point man…" says Turk, a little guiltily, as if just noticing my situation as a patient. "Maybe we can get that hot nurse from Psychiatry to play later – if you know what I'm _say_ing?" He sings the last part, and I sure do know what he's saying. Although Carla doesn't look to happy about it.

I allow myself to forget about the throbbing in my head and the tiredness in my body, and smile happily. We're all just hanging out and everything is normal for a while.

That is until the door opens, and we all look up from our game with smiling faces. It's Dr Cox. He's got a sheet of paper in his hand. My test results.

He stands there for a moment and just looks at us; my heart starts to flutter a little and I put down my cards.

"JD." Is all Dr Cox says, but somehow it's enough.

There's no girl's name this time, there's no 'Newbie', and that's when I know it's something serious. The smile slides off my face. For some reason all I can think is that I'm finally getting my comeuppance for stealing all of those pudding cups from the cafeteria.

"Dr Cox, what is it?" I ask hesitantly. I wonder if I sound like a child to everyone else.

He seems uncomfortable, and it strikes me that I never normally see him this way. Dr Cox is never uncomfortable; he's like a wall of steel. Walls of steel never look uncomfortable, they just stand wherever they damn well please and damn the consequences.

"Maybe your girly pals would like to wait outside there Newbie." He answers gruffly.

But I shake my head. I'd rather everyone hear it now, than me having to tell them later. I don't think anything would be worse than having to tell your friends something 's wrong, I know that I probably wouldn't end up telling them at all… I'd just smile and try to forget all about it.

"Ah get the hell out of here would ya," Dr Cox growls at everyone but me, "I need to talk to the kid."

I'm feeling more tired than I did, now that everyone is quieter. I want to shake my head again but it hurts too much.

"V-bear wants us here." Says Turk, coming to my rescue. And it seems to do the trick. Carla and Elliot do their strong female poses and refuse to leave as well.

Dr Cox hunches his shoulders in that familiar way he does when he's giving bad news. I've seen it so many times, but I've never been on the receiving end of it before.

"Dr Cox?"

He looks me in the eye, his usual cold steel irises changing to soft blue. Must be the lighting. "You've got Leukemia." He says. "And in all honesty kid, it doesn't look good."

For some reason I don't take it in. It doesn't register. I play back the moment in my mind and watch as Dr Cox's mouth moves slowly around the word. "Loo-kee-mee-ah," says Dr Cox's mouth. I think his eyes are trying to tell me something else.

"Leukemia." I whisper to myself.

And just like that, everything changes. I know that Elliot's holding onto my hand with a cold death grip, and I know Turk's got a shaky grasp on my shoulder and is telling me something. Those are Carla's fingers pushing back my hair. But somehow I can't see or hear them anymore.

My mind is flitting back and I remember when I walked into Ben's room and gave him the exact same diagnosis that Dr Cox is now giving me. He didn't make it. I wonder if Dr Cox is thinking of him too. His jaw is clenching and he's avoiding my eyes.

"Oh." I say, clutching my bed sheets a little.

Leukemia. How did this happen? I know I'm not the healthiest of guys, but this sort of thing just doesn't happen to me. I get tummy aches, and bad cases of the sniffles, and paper cuts… for goodness sake, the worst injury I've ever had was from a particularly precarious space-hopper race with Turk…

But I know that this time it must be bad, especially for Dr Cox to act this way. That means Chemotherapy… I'd lose all my hair, just when I'd found the perfect unisex products for it too…

And I know there's no way I'm going to get to the top of the bone marrow transplant list any time soon, because that thing is so long you could use it as a lasso to pull down the moon.

I close my eyes. So this is what it's like knowing you're sick and… and probably going to die.

No. Come on now, don't think like that, silly old brain. Not me, and certainly not like this. I've always thought I'd die in a really cool accident like extreme pancake tossing, or failing that, of growing to a ripe old age in some rocking chair, knitting my life away. Think of all the socks I could make.

But I can't and I won't go like this.

I feel strangely detached from everything around me. I think people are looking at me, I think they're calling at me, shaking me. Through the haze is Dr Cox, standing straight and tall, with sad eyes that don't belong in his face.

Before I can stop my mind, I find myself imagining what my funeral would be like…

Everybody I love is there, including some unicorns that Turk's managed to find for me. And he said they didn't exist, I knew I'd prove him wrong one day.

Ted's band are singing _Don't stop believing_ by Journey, my all time favourite song in the universe, a-capella style. Rowdy's sitting awkwardly in a chair wearing a veil; I guess he's in mourning…

Huh. Even the Janitor is here, leaning on a mop, although it looks like he's planning to steal something, what with that big crane behind him. Gee, I hope it's not me he's after. I don't fancy being in his collection of creepy stuffed animals…

All I can think is that this has come too soon; I'm wondering where on earth my life has gone. All that time spent in med school, studying and learning and working my way up the ranks of the hospital, all the while trying to make a difference, trying to matter.

Does it mean anything now? Have I helped anyone? Here I am, getting lowered steadily into the ground in a rainbow coffin, with my friends in front of me waving goodbye.

No. No - wait. They actually are in front of me.

Oh.

Have I been in my head all this time?

"JD!"

"Bambi, are you okay?"

I'm in the hospital. I've got Leukemia. My friends are here, looking about as bad as I feel.

"Vanilla bear, you okay man?"

I nod shakily, blinking away the morbid thoughts and trying to come back to myself, trying to smile at everyone to show them that I'm okay.

Only I'm not. Not yet, not when there's no much left I have to do, I haven't gotten round to finishing Dr Acula... Oh god, I'm trembling like a leaf, stop silly body, you can't break down. Not in front of everyone.

Turk's eyes look wet like they did after we watched Titanic and the next thing I know he's hugging me tightly around my middle.

Then everyone moves at once, like a big blanket wrapping around me. Elliot's got her bony chin in my shoulder and Carla's curling around my other side, whispering soft comforts in my ear and rubbing my back, her curly hair tickling my neck.

I squish them back, and although there's little strength in the hug I find myself never ever ever wanting to let them go.

Dr Cox is still standing there. His expression is blank, but he's gripping my test results so hard his knuckles are white.

"It's okay." I hear myself say.

And despite everything, it _is_ okay. We see these things every day as doctors; it's the way that life is. People get ill and people die and although you never imagine yourself to be one of them, it still happens. This is just meant to be.

I sound like Laverne. _Everything happens for a reason Q-tip._

Maybe it does. I've seen a lot of patients hanging on to life even when things look much bleaker than they do for me, and I know that I have no plans to let go anytime soon. In fact, I _can't_ let go. This just simply isn't going to beat me, because nothing get's the J-dizzle… the J-dawg… nothing get's me down, right?

"It's okay." I tell them softly, still not letting go. But they haven't yet let go of me.

Dr Cox turns on his heel and storms out.

……

_Dr Cox's POV_

Kid needs chemo, and he sure as hell's going to get a bone marrow transplant after that. I'm gonna have to ring up that ass of a brother of his and explain… they better be a match or I'm finally going to fulfil my wish of stringing Dan up the flagpole by his manliness.

The waiting list for bone marrow is about as long as it can get, and Newbie doesn't have a lot of time right now to be sitting about plaiting his hair.

For the life of me, I can't get that image of his face out of my head. I tried to be professional about it, but for God's sake I just handed the kid his death sentence. Any normal person would have burst into tears.

All Newbie did was zone out for the longest while, his friends getting more than a little upset by his absent pouty face. And then the damn kid just wakes back up and tells us it's "okay".

"Damn it!" I slam my fist into the wall, leaving an indentation in the wall and not enough pain in my fingers. What the hell was he doing trying to comfort us? It's not 'okay'. It can _never_ be 'okay'.

The kid's supposed to have such a life ahead of him. I always thought he'd get to be Chief of Medicine some day, get married, have kids, be happy and smile that annoyingly goofy grin of his every damn day for the rest of my life.

I know I'm not supposed to give a crap what happens to him, but the truth is… shit, the truth is I can't imagine having a day in this hospital without him tagging along behind me, asking stupid questions, and pouncing on any scraps of comfort I happen to chuck his way.

I need that kid. Most of the time I certainly don't _want_ him, but somehow I just… need him.

I try to punch the wall again but there's no passion behind it, and instead I just leave a small bloody trail on the paint. Must have grazed my knuckles.

Just like Ben. This was just like Ben. I've tried to push down those memories as far into the black hole that is my soul as they will go, but one look at the kid's pale face brought it all back. Maybe someone was trying to tell me something. When you finally let someone into your life, when you start to care, just the least bit… then they're snatched away.

There's a hand on my shoulder and I sigh heavily but don't turn around. No one can comfort me. I don't need comforting because it's just Newbie in there, dying. I don't care right?

"Dr Cox, it's all right to be upset." It's Carla's voice, and I know without turning around that she's crying. Dear God, if all this emotional crap has gotten to Carla Espinosa, there's no hope for me. "Perry?"

"He's not gonna die," I say to the wall, "and I'm not upset." The next thing I know she's in front of me, and her arms are wrapped around my middle.

It's a short embrace. But for a second, just for a second, I allow myself to put my hands on her back. She pulls me closer and I stiffen, but for some reason I just can't stop myself, so I let her.

It's because she needs the comfort, it's her that needs this - whatever this is. It's sure as hell not a hug. Then it's over, and I feel awkward and pull away.

"I'll ring Dan," Carla says, wiping her eyes. They're bright and brown but determined. It's as if she's read my mind and I nod silently at her, knowing that I wouldn't be able to deal with Newbie's brother right now.

I've gotta get that damn oncologist up here right now, I don't care if I'm going to have to drag him by his balls.

………

_Carla's POV_

I've dialled twice already but my fingers don't seem to be cooperating.

I'm in the nurse's station because for some reason it's comforting to be using this phone. Laverne's right beside me, pretending to be engrossed in her stories, but her eyes keep flicking to me and the phone, then to Bambi's room, and back again. I give her a watery smile.

She nods because she understands. She always does.

I press the phone to my ear and lean against the wall; this time there's three long rings before he picks up.

"Yelloo?" says the voice on the other end.

For one of the first times in my life I'm out of words. I just don't know how to start, how do I go about telling Dan his brother needs him? I remember one of the last times Dan was here, he didn't get out of Bambi's bathtub for a week. I'm sure as hell not going to let him use our tub…

No, I will, I know I will. Whatever helps, right?

Dan carries on with a small laugh, and I can hear the rumble of cars in the background. He must be outside. I find myself wishing he was in because he really should be sitting down for this. "Is this Michelle again?" He says knowingly, I can practically see him nodding his head and smirking, "I've told you to stop ringing me… but if you want you can swing by I guess, bring more of that chocolate sauce and we can get right down -"

"No Dan, this is Carla," I blurt out, "at Sacred Heart Teaching Hospital."

I'm trying to use my professional voice, but I can hear it wavering a little. I grasp the phone with my manicured nails and close my eyes. It's just a phone call to tell a patient's family to visit, that's all this is.

Bambi's brother sounds more than a little disappointed. "Oh right, hey… one of JD's girlies right? Watcha calling for?"

"It's JD," it takes me a while to get the words out; "he's been admitted."

"Cool. Is he finally getting that third nipple removed? I told him no girl would love him with his extra man nugget…"

Okay, that one was unexpected. "_What_? No – Dan -"

"Right yeah, listen I gotta go. Tell Johnny I said hi or whatever."

"Dan!" It's something like a strangled cry, and it just doesn't sound like me. I try to collect myself, "this isn't a joke okay? It's not looking good. Bambi collapsed, and he just got his test results back today. Do you think you could come down?"

There's a pause "… Johnny actually _fainted_? Did he drink more than three of those appletini things, because that usually gets him..." There's a nervous laugh, "See, he's such a girl."

For a moment I'm glad that I'm the one making this phone call. I have a feeling Perry would have little sympathy for Dan's jokes and would either just shout down the phone or snap it in two. Elliot would be rambling and crying. And my baby… I don't think he would be able to say anything at all right now; I mean I had to resort to drugging him just to get him to leave Bambi's room.

I've got to be the strong one.

"Dan, I'm so sorry," I say quietly, recognising the fear in Dan's voice for what it was. I've heard it many times from family members. "He's got leukemia."

I manage to outline Bambi's condition without crying too much. Laverne gets up and makes me a strong coffee, which she leaves by my side without a word. Dan stays silent throughout my explanation, even when I tell him how badly Bambi's going to need a bone marrow transplant after the chemo, and that one of his only choices was Dan himself.

It's silent. For a moment I think Dan might have gone, but then I hear a small intake of breath on the other end.

I don't think I've ever heard Bambi's brother sound so serious in my life. "I'll be right there." He says quietly. And hangs up.

I stare at the phone for a minute then lower it back in its holster.

………

………

_Blue, blue, electric blue, that's the colour of my room. Please review._


	7. Chapter 7: Brownies and Big Brothers

_Sorry for the wait, and thanks so much to the lovely reviewers! What would I do without you guys? _

_Ta for everything; you readers and reviewers are what keep the sun shining and the figurative ink flowing._

_Chapter 7 – Brownies and Big Brothers_

………

………

_JD's POV_

Dr Cox is standing in front of my bed, rocking back on his heels slightly and trying to talk me through the treatment.

They've got me on a bunch of drugs, but they don't want to start the chemo until Dan gets here. If he's a match, it'll be a short burst of chemotherapy, and maybe some radiation. If he's not, then I'm gonna have to get through this the hard way…

My eyes flit off to the left. I feel like a knight, riding a white stallion and bracing this illness with nothing but a sword and my wits about me. The thing is, whenever I try to imagine myself as the knight, I always end up as the damsel in distress… darn my low self-confidence and all its issues. I pout a little, and snuggle further into the covers. But I've gotta say, I _do_ look kinda ravishing in pink; it really brings out the blue of my eyes.

And yeah you probably guessed it; Dr Cox is always the knight in shining armour... I hope he never finds that out particular fantasy. Heh, can you imagine? He'd probably rip all of my limbs off…

"Dr Cox is always the knight in shining armour…" I say, absent-mindedly and with a large dreamy smile. Then I realise I'm looking right at him. Oopsie.

Dr Cox just stares at me, apparently lost for words. "Just _what_ did ya just say there Newbie?" he asks, eyebrows shooting up.

I blink a little and look everywhere but his snarling face. Think of something; think of something brain, anything! "Nothing?" I say carefully, fiddling with my covers and hoping against hope that he'll let this slide.

It seems to be the right answer and I deflate in relief as the rampage of anger I was expecting from my mentor fails to come at me and rip out my giblets.

For some reason Dr Cox has been holding back on the rants, I guess seeing as I'm stuck in this bed all day I haven't really been able to do anything to anger him as much. I probably look pretty pathetic too.

Dr Cox just folds his arms in front of me, "Huh. Well, we'll do the usual tests, your gosh-darned _idiot_ of a brother'll be a perfect match and we'll have you getting that transplant in no time, you got that Francine?"

I think I've just about got it. I think if Dan isn't a match Dr Cox will eat him. My mentor suddenly turns into a large red dragon in my mind's eye, instead of the knight with a dashing smile and impressive beard that he was before. He makes a pretty scary dragon, all red and snarling and with pointy teeth. I hope he doesn't eat me too.

"Okay Dr Cox," I say wiggling my toes in the covers apprehensively.

Thanks to the rumour mill at the nurse's station, everyone at the hospital found out about my illness within the first hour of me knowing. I don't really mind though, because now I'm being mothered and fussed over left right and centre; it's like having a big warm blanket wrapped around me. I guess when someone is ill like this it causes people's real feelings come out to play.

I mean, you know, except for Dr Cox's. He's standing too far away for me to get in a sneak hug at the moment, but I'm working on it. I even managed to coax a smile out of him the other day… admittedly that's because when I got up to use the bathroom I fell on my face.

But we've got to take baby steps right?

Whilst waiting for my special Perry hug, I've been bombarded with presents and goodies and all things nice from everybody else. Right now I'm eating a box of brownies that Laverne's church has baked for me.

I gotta tell you, they're the best things I've _ever_ tasted. And I know I probably look like a big child right now, with chocolate on my face, and blue eyes round with the happiness only brownies can bring, but… it's comfort food.

I think I'm entitled to a little comfort food. And darn the effect they're gonna have on my manly love handles…

My eyes had lit up when Laverne gave me the box; I could already smell the yummy chocolatey goodness wafting on the air and it made my tummy smile.

"Here you go Q-tip," she had said, "a little something from my church... to let you know that we're all praying for you honey."

I did my whole: "aw thanks Laverne, you didn't have to…" thing, but I was just so excited to get presents. It was like Christmas had come early… Well, except for the fact that it was late summer, and I was rather ill. Oh, sh, silly mind. "Oooh… Brownies!" I squealed.

She raised her eyebrows and put a hand on her hip, "Mmhmm. And just so you know Q-tip, they're the best brownies this side of heaven."

She was right. I could just see them sprouting wings and halos, and growing tiny chocolatey fingers to play their tiny chocolatey harps.

"They'd play delicious music…" I murmur, blinking away the daydream.

"Would ya stop fantasizing about the brownies there Marissa? I'm trying to have the important big daddy talk about your treatment here - if you'd just listen for one goddamn second without slipping off into those girly daydreams of yours!"

Oops, I'd zoned out in front of Dr Cox. Again. He doesn't seem to enjoy my daydreams, even at the best of times. I think about apologising, but I decide to just finish off my brownie, seeing as it would be a crime to stop munching on something so delicious. I offer him one out of the box with my free hand.

He gets a bit angry at that and just flings my file on my bed and stalks out of the room.

I lower my brownie sadly.

Out of everyone, Dr Cox is probably finding this the hardest. I don't think he knows how to act, I mean everyone else has just automatically moved to the 'Comfort JD' formation. But I don't think Dr Cox can. It's just not how we do things… our relationship doesn't work like that.

He rants, he calls me girls' names, and he insults me. I listen. Then I miraculously become a better doctor - because underlying all those rants and girls' names and insults is a life lesson to be learned, a helping hand.

But with something like this, ranting doesn't help. There's no lesson to be learned here. But I still know Dr Cox cares.

He's turned rather protective of me - it makes my heart all gooey inside when I catch him guarding my room, or watching me through the blinds, or scaring the bejeebers out of any intern who comes down the corridor.

He cares about me – Dr Cox actually cares! Ah he's just a big old softie, I had my suspicions all along…

He's thrown himself into my treatment too, if what Carla says is anything to go by. I've got the best oncologist on staff, my schedule's all been worked out for me and I'm due to start whenever we find out if Dan's a match.

I just don't know how to tell him how grateful I am that he's sticking around.

………

"Hey little brother!"

When Dan arrives he has a cake under one arm and a ridiculously happy grin on his face. He slopes into the room looking like he's just been dragged through a hedge backwards - I peer at the doorway, expecting there to be some dense foliage instead of a door, but there isn't.

Hmm. Maybe he hasn't slept. Poor Dan, I really have dumped a big bombshell on him.

"Dan!" I say happily, greeting him with a bigger smile than I've ever done before.

He proudly presents me with a cake, grinning from ear to ear in a stretched sort of way. The cake has some sloppy writing on it that could have been 'get well soon' once. You know, before someone sat on it.

"Hey um, what's with the cake?" I eye it warily and with a nervous laugh, knowing the true meaning of such a gift from Dan. "I'm not dead yet you know."

Dan shrugs with a tight smile, "Oh, I know that Johnny. I just like cake… everyone likes cake - you like cake don't ya?" he directs the last bit to Turk.

"I love cake." replies Turk mopily, seeing as he can't eat any without the worry of his foot falling off.

"_See _little brother." Dan says. He puts the cake on my bedside table and sits beside me. "So you look good huh? I think I'm gonna leave the usual wrestling hello 'til you're out of that bed… I don't wanna smell like hospital."

Ah, he loves me really. I mean he's here; and he's willing to give up his bone marrow for me. I never really think about it, but Dan's always here when it's really important. Yeah there have been a lot of things he's missed out on… birthdays, graduations, Christmases, parties, that time I walked into a lamppost and he ran off laughing… but when it really counts, he's here.

I love my big brother.

"When've I got my whole boney test thingymabob?" Dan asks, stretching his legs out onto a spare chair by my bed, "'cause I gotta tell you, I haven't read up on it. Don't get all upset if I end up failing…"

I know what he's trying to say and I smile reassuringly. "Don't worry about it Dan, there's _plenty_ of other options." Well, I'm not really lying. There are other options, just not many which are very hopeful. I find myself wanting to tell him that, well… ah, he's your older brother J-dizzle, just go on and say it. "And thanks. You know… for being here."

The Dorians are not known for their emotional heart-to-hearts.

"Whatever. No problem little brother." Says Dan, poking his finger in the cake frosting and licking it clean. That means 'you're welcome' in Dan speak and of course, it means that he loves me too.

He still looks a little uncomfortable to be here. I don't blame him; I'm feeling a little uncomfortable myself. But that might be because it sure is _hot_ in here, and my head's pounding.

I look to Turk for help and he sits up, rubbing his hands. There's another person you can always count on to pull through for you, my Super Chocolate Bear.

"All right," Turk says dramatically, clapping his hands together, "now this has never been done before - but I think if we pull together we can _do_ this."

Me and Dan look at him eagerly and with a little awe.

He stands up, nodding in his own impressed way, "I propose a game of, the first _ever_, three-way toe-finger. What d'ya say?"

Dan's eyes light up. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what exactly toe-finger is, but he definitely loves games. And this one is just the right amount of ridiculous childishness to appeal to him, I mean; he is my brother after all.

He sheds his shoes and socks in seconds, like a superhero costume change.

"Oh, I'm in." He says.

………

_Dr Cox's POV_

Jordon's decided to follow me around work today like the leech that she is, sucking out my life-blood and enjoying the hell out of it. I'm already fully prepared to kill myself from her nagging, and every time she turns her back to me, I try to string myself up by my stethoscope and choke to death.

She catches me before I can feel the sweet abyss that is anywhere away from Jordon though...

"This has gone on far enough Per-bear," she says, in her no-nonsense tone, "you _feel_ for the kid. And don't tell me you don't because I know that you do."

She's talking about Marigold. It seems that's all that's on anyone's minds these days.

"Ah come on Jordon," I grunt, moving Jack to my other arm as he now has a small obsession with grabbing onto my hair and ripping it out. Well, he is the devil spawn after all. "You don't _know_ anything."

"Oh really Perry," says Jordon with a perceptive smile that, I gotta say, creeps me out a little, "I _know_."

I grunt. Ah who am I kidding? She always knows. Must be her woman's intuition, or you know, it might be because she's the devil. It might also be because I haven't been acting like my usual self. Ya see, with Clarissa stuck in bed all day long on her pretty little ass, I've got no one to take out my frustrations on. And when I _do_ see the kid… Damn it. Have ya seen him? Just looking at him…

I sigh, giving Jordon our son before his claws get into my hair. I try to look anywhere but her piercing eyes, pretending to be extremely busy with my patient charts.

"Just give him that hug he's been asking for before he pegs it, will ya?" She's never been the most sensitive of gals, but gosh darn it, that's why I love her. "You know you'll regret it if you don't, and sure you'll smell all girly for a while, and sure you may actually turn _into_ a girl for a bit…"

I do my usual frustrated growl and put my hands behind my head. See the thing is - and I'm actually being honest here, so don't judge me - the thing is I just don't know what to do.

And not knowing what to do isn't a situation I usually find myself in, normally if I'm faced with anything remotely emotional I'll just get angry.

Ya see, I don't _do_ sad, I do emotionally crippled. I don't do comforting, I do – well, the last time I tried to comfort the kid I ended up punching the crap outta him.

The most I can do is anger; anger is a good drinking buddy of mine. I can also do checking up on him, because I'm a doctor and it's what we do. The kid knows anyway, right?

Of course he knows.

So I storm away from Jordon while she shouts something like "for God's sake Per-per _hug_ him or I'll cry again after sex tonight!"

And then I end up at his room. Dear God, it's like all corridors lead down to this one place. It's not like there's anything special about it.

I open the door.

Aw hell. I'm not even going to try and describe what girly goings on are in here. All I can say is there's a lot of feet and precarious positions. And dear _God_, I ne-he-ever want to see it again.

So I just let my mouth do the anger part while I stand rigid in the doorway, "Just what in the _hell_ are you girls doing?"

They have the decency to blush a little as they notice me. I tighten my jaw.

"Oh hey Coxie!" says Dan, lowering his foot that he had dangled in front of Ghandi's shiny head. Yeah, you heard me right. He had a foot in front of Ghandi's head. And worse, it looked like Bowling Ball head was sniffing it. Now I've seen my fair share of Newbie's games so this doesn't disturb me as much as it would the average person, but well, I think that it's pretty disturbing anyway.

"Dude," says Ghandi awkwardly, "it's called Toe-finger -"

I don't wanna know.

"Dr Cox," starts Newbie looking a little flustered from the bed, "I know it looks weird but -"

"Aw heck Francis, I just don't care in the sla-_hightest_." I whistle sharply at Newbie's brother. "You. Girl with no shoes on. You better get your ass over here in the next three seconds, or your pretty face is gonna collide with my fist."

See, and who said I couldn't do concerned?

Looks like Newbie's gonna have to wait for his sensitive-mentor-protégé-super-hug that he's been waiting for. Besides, the kid doesn't look too bad anyway. Sure he's kinda pale and he's got some dark smudges under his eyes, and yeah, he looks exhausted… along with those bruises. And his hands are shaking. Ah shit.

"Coxsmith," Newbie's brother says to me with a half-smile, standing up. "You better be taking good care of my little brother or you'll have me to deal with."

I snort. I'll have Dan to deal with? Forgive me if I don't go running for the hills with my girly tail between my legs, but he's not exactly the most intimidating of guys. Besides that, does he think I haven't already taken care of the kid?

Newbie looks a little upset with this. I don't know whether that's because he doesn't like his mummy and daddy arguing in front of him or – what the hell did I just refer to myself as?

I just bare my teeth at Dan, "Oh." I say incredulously. "No no no no no no, you did not just threaten me there sweet cheeks." I beckon him over with a snarl and a curled finger.

I guess I must have perfected that dangerous you're-going-to-wish-you-were-never-born look from Jordan because he gets right up and hurries out of the door without another word.

"Move move move!" I shout at him for good measure. And he sure as hell moves.

"Dr Cox?" asks Newbie hesitantly. Must be wondering if I'm gonna murder his only sibling… well not yet Newbie, but I'm not promising anything.

"Taking your idiot brother for the test of his life Joanne." I say with my arms folded and my eyes determined. "If he doesn't pass you won't see him again." Then I slam the door.

………

So it is that five minutes later, Dan and I are having a man to man talk... well man to girl. And believe me I didn't start it, in fact I was content to just shove him at a nurse and get the hell outta there. But Newbie's brother had other ideas.

"So… it's bad then." He says, looking all mopey. I remember the last time I had to pull him out of depression so he could help out Priscilla. I sure don't feel like going through all that again, the man pretended to be a pirate for God's sake and he stayed so long in that bath I don't even wanna think about what he was wallowing in. It was a wonder he didn't turn into a massive wrinkle.

I groan loudly. And gosh darn it; I was nearly out of the door. I nearly make a break for it, squaring my shoulders, but Dan stops me.

"Come on Coxy," he says honestly, "give me a break here. What are Johnny's chances? He looks like shit."

I had to agree there. Newbie did look like shit. It clawed at my heart every time I had to look him in the eye. Damn kid. "We'll know how good his chances are when we find out if you're a match or not Danny boy. Aaand if you think he's sick now, you just wait 'til the chemo."

I don't know if that was supposed to sound like a joke, but Dan kind of just glares at me. Yeah yeah, I got it, I'm an insensitive bastard. It's what I do.

"He's in good hands here Dan." I try awkwardly. Newbie's brother just nods as the nurse takes some blood from his arm and he winces like a school girl.

………

_Carla's POV_

I haven't had much time to see Bambi today, but I poked my head into his room twice when I had a few seconds of free time and both times he was asleep. Poor baby. He sure looks exhausted.

I was so happy to see his brother shamble in through the doors today. He looked like he'd come straight from the airport, he still had a big rucksack on his back and I took it from him as I met him at the doors.

"Hey Dan! I'm Carla." I said hurriedly, because he looked a little lost.

"Oh right, yeah, girl on the phone," said Dan, "Johnny about?" then he smirked a little, "that was a joke. Not funny but I did it anyway. Sorry. So uh…"

"I'll take care of this, okay?" I said, gesturing to his bag that I had clasped between my fingers. He pressed hi lips together in what I guess was supposed to be a smile and then I steered him towards the nurse's station.

JD's brother looked a little out of his depth here, and I was reminded of Bambi at the innocent look in his eyes. The one that just screams out for mothering and direction... Dan's quite a bit rougher around the edges than JD is though, and his hair is a _complete_ mess - something which Bambi would never allow to happen to his own, what with all the girl products he uses on it.

I watched him walk into Bambi's room from afar, because as much as I hate it, I do still have to do my job. I wish I could dump all this work and just go and sit by my Bambi's bed and gossip with him for hours on end... I've really missed that.

Now that Dan's finally here, all that any of us are praying and wishing for is that he's a match for our poor Bambi.

Laverne's been gazing at the ceiling all day and muttering to herself. I think she's having deep words with that God of hers. And she keeps fiddling with the little gold cross she has on a chain around her neck.

And of course, my baby's got his lucky boxers on - the purple ones that he keeps in his locker for those particularly risky surgeries… And I don't care how lucky they are, he better have washed those because they've been in there for god knows how long…

I lean on the counter of the nurse's station and look into the room down the hall. Turk's patting Bambi's shoulder to say good bye - even though I can see through the blinds that Bambi's fallen asleep again, looking a bit too pale against the white hospital pillow for my liking.

We should get him some proper food instead of the slop from the cafeteria, maybe I could make him something….

Turk puts on his shoes and I raise my eyebrow and quirk my lips into a sly smile. I _knew_ he'd been playing that stupid game of his again… the one with the toe-smelling that I made him promise _never ever_ to do in our apartment. He and Bambi do the strangest things… but if I'm honest, I don't think I'd have it any other way.

As Turk comes out of the room, I offer him a smile. "How's he doing?" I ask, although I already know.

Turk smiles back. He comes around the counter and brings me into a hug, kissing the top of my head. "Baby, I'm wearing my lucky boxers," he says, as if that explains everything, "these babies got me through a _heart_ transplant! Believe me, V-bear's gonna be just fine."

I kiss his nose and settle back into the hug. Bambi sure better be just fine, or that leukemia's gonna have us lot to answer to.

………

………

_Please review, it'll mean the world to me._


	8. Chapter 8: Safe

_This chapter is for _LilAniFanxx_, thank you from the bottom of my bottom for encouraging me to write, you brought me out of my writer's block with your message and I can't thank you enough. I really hope you enjoy this chapter :) And also thank you to the reviewers! What would I do without you guys? I hope I've replied to you all. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait._

Chapter 8 - Safe

………

………

_Dr Cox's POV_

Idiot's a match. The goddamn idiot is _actually_ a match.

I quell the sudden urge to leap in the air - because I'm _nawt_ a girl and I'm definitely _nawt_ that happy that Newbie has a better chance at living… it's just gonna be a hell of a lot easier to have him around taking care of my patients, that's all.

I surprise the heck out of one of the interns when I can't stop the insatiable grin that's wormed its way onto my face. I know that that's just Newbie rubbing off on me. He's doing his best to turn me into one of those touchy-feely sensitive types.

Damn kid.

For some reason I can't stop myself from practically running to his room (ah, it's more of a power-walk than a run anyway), but I manage to slow down as soon as it comes into view. I don't want him to think I've gone soft after all.

"Hey," I whistle, "Caroline!" before I'm even through the door I school my face into my usual serious expression. There's no need for Newbie to witness me actually giving a damn about him. I'm just here giving him the results of his brother's blood test, it's no big deal. Just… gotta stop that damn grin twitching at my lips. "Guess which idiot relative finally got something right for once?"

Newbie and his brother look up at me surprised. And then Newbie starts to smile from ear to ear. He's used to working through my insults to get to the good bits, whereas Dan just kinda does a pouty frown at me. I think his tiny brain is trying to figure out if I'm calling him an idiot or not.

"Yes," I tell him slowly, "you _are_ an idiot. And you are _also_ the idiot in my insult." I motion with my hands for him to get there faster. "Would ya mind figuring it out already, I don't have all day you know – I do have other patients besides you two pansies."

Dan frowns deeper, "Hey -"

"Dan's a match?" Newbie says excitedly, cutting off his brother, blue eyes large and full of that annoying stuff called hope that he's so fond of doling out.

"You betcha." I say, handing him the small slip of paper that's made the world seem a little brighter for all of us, and patting him roughly on the back as if he's just found the cure for cancer.

All this mushy stuff doesn't become me, and ya know I think I'm gonna have to start avoiding the kid before I get the urge to hold a proper conversation with him, or dare I think it, actually _hug_ him… It's his fault that he looks so damn frail all the time. Like the merest nudge of a finger will cause him to fall over on his girly ass. He's just… He just looks fragile. And I guess it makes me a bit uncomfortable.

Newbie takes one look at the sheet he's holding in those shaky hands of his and launches himself at his unsuspecting brother, wrapping Dan in a tight hug and doing what can only be called 'snuggling' into his shoulder. I feel a little sick.

"Hey – uh – it's all right Johnny." Dan wheezes uncomfortably, while Newbie squishes the air outta his lungs with as much strength as I've ever seen him have. "You don't have to be such a girl about it."

I scoff. Of course Newbie has to be a girl about it, he's _always_ a girl.

"You better get ready there Priscilla." I say, swiping at my nose so that no one can see that annoying grin on my face that will just _nawt_ leave. "Your chemo starts tomorrow."

For some reason I want to say so much more than that, but I decide to leave the girls to their moment; however uncomfortable it is for Newbie's brother…. He's sure starting to look oh _so_ not happy with the length of the hug he's been stuck with.

Well it serves the idiot right, to be honest. Everyone in the hospital knows that the number one rule of avoiding Newbie's hugs is that you should never, ne-_hever_, get too close to Newbie when he's in an emotional state, 'cause that's when he's most likely to get you.

So I'm sure as hell not planning on sticking around with Harriet there all weepy and pale. I mean he might just turn those baby blue eyes of his on me, and in my current state (whatever the hell it is that's gotten into me that makes me _nawt_ want to pound the kid unconscious with my bare fists for once…) well I might not be able to control myself. I might just give him that damn hug after all.

So I just allow myself that small grin and turn away.

………

_JD's POV_

I'm in my hospital room, in my hospital bed. It's you know, all hospital-ly, but I don't really mind anymore. Yes I've got leukemia, and yes it sure does suck… a lot. But Dan's a match and when the chemo's done with I'm gonna be able to recover much faster with that nice healthy squishy bone marrow transplant in me.

Hmm, I may have just disturbed myself there. Anyway, the oncologist's in here explaining my chemo, and as much as I want to just sit and think and smile about my good fortune, I guess I really should be paying attention.

"We've got you on a high dose, three day course of chemotherapy." Explains the oncologist. He's kind of a tallish guy, with an impressive black moustache that reminds me of one of those seventies cops… and I guess he must be new because I don't remember seeing him around here before. "And if that doesn't go well we're going to follow it up with an intensive course of radiation."

Wait… did he just say 'if it doesn't go well'? I feel my heart tighten a bit. If it doesn't go well… but it will go well, right?

My stomach goes all queasy. I want that weird smiling optimistic oncologist they have for the pediatric patients. He makes even the worst things seem better; he's such a ray of beautiful joyful sunlight.

I visualise the nice oncologist sitting next to a five year old.

"The thing is Jimmy," says the nice oncologist, with a voice like summer rain, "you've got terminal cancer, your hamster was killed in a road accident, your mother and father have turned to drinking to try and console themselves, and the world's about to implode in about five minutes…" then he smiles such a happy smile of rainbows and sunshine that it lightens the whole room up, "would you like a lollipop?"

The kid smiles and accepts the lolly.

"Optimism is key!" I say, snapping out of it.

The not-very-happy oncologist blinks at me, a little surprised that his patient practically shouted at him mid sentence. It could be my imagination, but it looks as though his moustache is drooping a bit. Sorry… you look like a nice enough doctor, it's just that you're scaring me a bit.

I should really get his name; he probably told me what it was when I was daydreaming. Hmm, his name tag says 'Dr Robert Heart'.

"Er… what was that?" asks Dr Heart. I look away embarrassed, so the poor guy looks to Dr Cox as if he can explain.

I fiddle absentmindedly with the corner of my bed cover. I think it's become a new hobby of mine, this fiddling with my covers thing; I seem to do it whenever I feel nervous. And this Dr Heart guy sure is making me feel nervous.

I mean, I've always been the optimistic one. Turk once told me he liked that I was so happy all the time, that I could turn almost any bad situation into a good one. He said that if even I got _shot_ I probably wouldn't be angry… after the small freaking out stage of course.

"Dude," Turk said, slapping me on the shoulder one lunch time, and taking a huge bite out of a burger, "you'd probably just be so ecstatic that you had a hip new scar to show off to your gangster friends. You know, if you had any gangster friends."

Now I sure hope that I don't get shot, but just how _cool_ would that be? The J-Dizzle would shnizzle his bizzle with his cool scar fizzle… iiiggghhhtt?

"V-bear," says my imaginary Turk, so not impressed, "we really need to work on your ghetto speak."

See though… the thing is, with something like this… well, I guess… I guess I'm scared.

Maybe I can't be the optimist that everyone needs right now, maybe just this once I need everyone else to be the optimist. I just need to know for sure that everything's going to be fine.

Dr Cox growls at my oncologist, his arms folded. "Listen -" he glances down at Dr heart's name tag with a scowl, "_Rob-o_. The kid's a daydreamer and, quite honestly, you better get used to it seeing as you're gonna be looking after him for the next couple-a weeks. Every now and again he'll drone you out and say something _oh_ so demeaning and random that it'll disturb the very life out of you - but you'll soon realise that _yes,_ he is a big man-child, and _yes,_ he is also a big girl."

I pout a little at that. Dr Cox continues with an eye roll at me.

"I think what Delilah's trying to say is that that big mopey face of yours isn't very helpful… He's a sunshine kid, so just smile would ya? You're making him uncomfortable."

Dr Heart looks a little intimidated at the rant, and plasters a fake smile on his face below the moustache. And I die a little inside.

"That's… probably worse." Says Dr Cox with his eyebrows raised.

There's a small uncomfortable silence.

"So… it's chemo today right?" I say, eager to get started on anything that will quell this enormous headache and weird ache that's settled in my bones.

Dr Heart looks happy that we've fallen back on his knowledge rather than his social skills, and his moustache perks up a little. The guy's a good doctor; I guess he just doesn't have much experience dealing with the patients themselves.

"That's right," he says, pretending to be absorbed in my chart, "a nurse will be along soon to get your treatment started. And then we'll get you scheduled for your transplant which should be about two weeks from now. Now I'm just going to talk you through the risks and any symptoms you might have -"

"Oh shut the hell up would ya?" says Dr Cox, snatching my chart back from the oncologist. "He's a _doctor_, and a damn sight better one that you are. He knows what's gonna happen."

I smile a little, my fingers stopping their playing with my cover.

Dr Cox takes a long look at me with that now familiar look of something unreadable in his eyes, and I gaze quietly back. "You're gonna be all right Nancy."

And I nod because I believe him.

………

And so starts the mighty adventures of chemotherapy.

I've always wondered what it feels like, having what quite literally is poison pumped through your veins. It looks so innocent, like a normal saline drip, or as Mr. Gillian the alcoholic patient likes to call it, 'happy juice'. But it's not either of those things. This stuff isn't too nice at all. But if this is what it takes to feel better…

Still, it turns my tummy even thinking about it. I try not to look at the clear liquid as it runs into my arm, but… urgghhh… I don't feel so good right now. And I'm on meds to manage the nausea too, silly sensitive tummy of mine.

"Bambi," that's Carla, she hasn't left my side since I started treatment half an hour ago. I should have known she would be my nurse, she's always there for me - like the caring older sibling I never had. Well… I mean I've got Dan, but he's kinda gone out to get a pizza at the moment… he just cares in his own special way. "Honey," says Carla, feeling my forehead with her soft fingers, "are you feeling any side effects?"

I nod, and feel tears prickle at my eyes in that uncomfortable way they do when I feel ill. I don't cry though, because Dorians never cry… "Feel sick." I mumble, and Carla gets up right away for a basin and some ice chips.

Turk's sat on the other side of me, gripping my hand. We're watching Titanic again on the small television in the corner, on account of us missing the end and me pleading for something to take my mind off this huge kerfuffle.

I fumble with the ice chips as Carla sits back down and tries to give them to me, my fingers don't want to cooperate and for some reason I just don't have the energy to make them. In the end she just holds them to my lips.

I let the ice chips melt slowly in my mouth gratefully; breathing slowly through my nose to get rid of the nausea that seems to like me so much.

"Aw man!" says Turk, eyes fixed on the screen as if he's watching a football match.

I'm sure glad we're getting to finish this film today because Turk's been pestering me about the ending for quite a while now. I love that we're both not afraid to embrace our feminine sides, but that's just how me and Turk are - we're so manly that we don't need to worry about being girly.

"Would you just look out or the iceberg! It's right there!" Turk yells, shaking his head as if we've just lost a penalty (or something to do with football and sporty stuff… hey, I wasn't saying it was my strong point). He turns to me with a confused frown on his face. "How can they not see that coming Vanilla bear?" then he scooches round in his seat to look at Carla, "Baby, how can they _not_ see it?"

Carla just rolls her eyes a little. "Turk." She says in her 'calm down you're just too excited' way, like she's talking to a child. She does that to me sometimes, but I have to say I quite like it. "You know it's just a movie, right?"

I think I hear Turk mumble "but it looks so real…" before he turns his eyes back on the television, hunching his shoulders.

I smile, letting my eyes wander. There's a shadow at the door, and I realise that it's Dr Cox with his new hobby I like to call 'Coxian lurking'. It usually happens just outside my room, and in the dark or when he thinks I won't notice. My heart feels all fuzzy at the thought of him being protective of me.

I give him a small wave and he scowls, but for some reason steps inside anyway.

"Hey Dr Cox," I say tiredly, lifting my arm a little in greeting and tugging at the IV tubing in the process.

Dr Cox replies with a "Hmmph." Then notices what we're watching and says, "Oh dear god Newbie - could you be any more of a girl if you tried? Turn this crap off would ya?"

I just smile exhaustedly, "Don't be silly, we're -" and then my stomach protests and I swallow hard, closing my eyes. Not good. Not good at all. I find myself making a face as I try to curl into the foetal position and protect my poorly tummy.

Carla's right there. Soothing. "Bambi just try and breathe, okay? The basin's right here, but you can breathe through this."

I can't breathe through this. Owwie. I… I'm just so tired and hurt and sick. For once in my life I find that I don't want to be surrounded by people at all. I just close my eyes and will it all away, will all of this away. I stay curled up on my side trying to breathe for a few minutes.

"Hey, Tina." I hear Dr Cox's rough tones mixed with something else, something a little softer. "You're missing your chick-flick."

I just squeeze my eyes shut a little tighter and hug the cover to me.

Just gotta slip off into a daydream that's all, no one will mind and it'll get me away from this… It's what I always do when I want to escape… I try desperately to get my brain to drift away and, for a moment, it works.

It smells like salt and peanuts and sun cream.

I'm on a beach, wearing nothing but a pair of blue swimming shorts. They say 'J-dizzle' on the side, spelt out in little diamonds that twinkle as they catch the sun. I've always wanted to have some bling on my ass… hmm, that sounded so much cooler before I thought it.

Anyway, I find that my bling shorts are delightfully roomy as I park my bottom on the soft sand of the beach, a happy and contented smile on my face. The waves are lapping at my toes and the sun's prickling at my head.

It's warm and snug and cosy, and I'm all by myself. This is better, so much better. I could stay here forever.

Then there's a loud snapping sound.

I jerk my head up. What dares disturb this magical island of dreams? I haven't even started to explore it yet. I bet I'll find all kind of amazing things – unicorns, a tub of mango body butter, the Gilmore girls…

_Snap_. It's like thunder. I look up among the candyfloss clouds but there's no rain or anything... and the sound sure is familiar. If I squint I can see a hand in front of my face. If I listen hard enough I can hear a voice.

"Newbie for God's sake, snap out of it!"

I blink.

"Newbie!"

I blink some more. The real world comes back into focus like a lens over old eyes.

It's Dr Cox. He's clicking his fingers in front of my vacant eyes, and he looks… he looks kinda scared actually. His eyes are dark and the eyebrows furrowed over them make them seem even darker.

"Hmm?" I murmur dazedly, shaking my head a little because I can still hear the sea gulls on the beach and the soft sighing of the waves.

Dr Cox's red face pulls back, his jaw twitching.

Oh… the daydream shrinks back. I'm in the hospital, of course I am, in my hospital room in my hospital bed. The steady hum and beeping of machines. The sting of the IV. The exhaustion tugging at my eyes. I snuggle my face into the covers that I have hugged in my arms. Gotta get back there to my magical island. Where I'm safe.

"Don't even _think_ about it Newbie," Dr Cox sounds dangerous, "you're gonna keep that girly mind of yours right here where we can see it, ya got it? There'll be no running away from this on my watch."

"Perry," I hear Carla say softly, she's probably putting her hand on Dr Cox's stiff arm but I can't see because I've closed my eyes to block them out again.

A deep growl. "Aw come _on_ Carla! You can't just let him ignore this -"

"Leave my Vanilla bear alone man. If that's how he feels safe then just let him be."

C-bear understands me; I need this... whatever it is. I can't face what's happening to me and I know that it probably isn't the healthy thing to do, but it's what _I_ do. It's what I've always done. I daydream so that I can forget, so I can escape and be happy no matter what is happening.

And I sure as hell want to escape this, please please please. Just for a while, I swear I'll be right back. I just want to feel safe.

Dr Cox, if possible, sounds even angrier than before. "You mean Carol doesn't feel safe when he's holed up in the best damn room this place has to offer?" I can hear his teeth grinding against each other. "He's got the best damn doctors at his beck and call, day and night!"

"Perry, you know that JD's gotta cope with this in his own way…"

"Ah don't give me that crap Carla – this isn't coping at all. Newbie's got to deal with it and fight this head on…" his voice gets softer, and I can hear the rustle of his doctor coat as he folds his arms. A sigh. "Because you and I both know it's gonna beat him otherwise."

I sneak a peek outside of my little cocoon of comfort at those words.

And then I start to feel the tug of guilt more than the familiar tug of my daydream. Dr Cox is right. He's _always_ right. Well with medical decisions anyway, not with things like me being a girl…

Thing is, I've seen enough patients with cancer to know that the one's who are most likely to survive are the ones who fight with everything they've got. I… I can't just keep slipping off.

Besides… I don't need to daydream because, well, I really _do_ feel safe - right here, surrounded by the people that I love and who love me. Even though they all have different ways of showing that they care.

Dr Cox is standing with his jaw tensed and arms folded, solidly, as if he's guarding my bedside. His steel grey eyes flit from Carla to focus on me, unblinking. He's like a hawk or something.

Carla's sat in a chair with her hand furled on what's left of my covers, eyes moist, while the other hand nervously flits to put a strand of curly hair behind her ear. Turk's just watching me worriedly, no longer even trying to pretend he's watching the film.

Oh man, what've I done? Silly daydreams ruining things. I don't want to make my friends worry, I didn't really think how this was affecting them.

I lift my head groggily from the pillows.

I know that I might not be the strongest guy around but… my friends sure are. And they're right here beside me all the way.

"I'm sorry." I whisper carefully, and Dr Cox just nods uneasily at me as if he's not sure whether I'm going to go off into la la land at any second.

On the television screen titanic's still going, and some violinists burst into a melody as the ship sinks below the water.

"Aw Chocolate bear, you can't miss out on this a second time." I say and shift myself up against the pillows watching the screen with a smile. "I sure wish we had some popcorn…"

And just like that the tension is gone. It's like someone's breathed a huge sigh of relief, and my friends sort of deflate a bit - like if they were made rubber and had to be blown up like balloons. My eyes flit to the side, a grin on my face as I imagine the balloon versions of my friends. Dr Cox is a big shiny red balloon and as he walks past the interns shrink and Doug just bursts out of fear.

"I could fill you up with helium and make your voices all squeaky." I murmur with a smile.

Dr Cox snorts a little, but doesn't say anything.

Carla smiles softly and leans forward to ruffle my hair. "Bambi, I can always pop round the store and get you some popcorn." She says.

Turk grins, propping his feet back up on my bed, "Yeah man, I'll get you some for later. I rented the entire season of…" he stops and nods his head in our special secret way that means he's really rented out something completely different than what he's about to say, "Monster trucks… for us to watch to our manly hearts' content…" he says slowly.

I beam as I translate the words with years of practice. Chocolate bear rented us Cheers! I love Cheers!

"Thanks C-bear." I say tiredly, and somehow, I feel better already.

A few minutes later, as the old woman on the screen drops her necklace into the sea and Dr Cox feigns trying to kill himself out of boredom (I think he secretly likes this film because he's stayed until the end, either that or he's just keeping an eye on me - to be honest, I kinda like both of those reasons), I realise that the time has flown past and my treatment is over.

Dr Cox unhooks the empty bag of drugs from near my head.

"Well, that's your lot Susan." He says gruffly.

It's not really my lot; I've got more chemotherapy to come, but… I think I can handle it. Piece of cake, right? I nod at him exhaustedly, "Thanks Dr Cox." I say.

I expect him to leave but he just avoids my eyes and sits in the other chair by my bed while Carla clears the equipment away. Then he snatches up one of the magazines someone's left on my bedside table and sticks his nose in it.

Turk looks a little annoyed at this, I know he was planning on spending some quality time with the J-dawg, a bucket of popcorn and _Cheers _but well... I find myself smiling from ear to ear. Because just like this… Just like this, I feel safe.

………

………

_Author note to readers: _

_My motivation is dwindling much like a fire someone has peed on. I have one more chapter planned out after this and then I have no idea what will happen - though rest assured, I will _definitely_ post it up for you to read. _

_Basically, this is me with my head hanging low, apologising in advance just in case... But thank you so so so much for all the amazing reviews. You sure know how to make a gal smile! _


	9. Chapter 9: My Not So Good News

_Wow, you readers and reviewers are amazing. I can't thank you enough. I thought there'd be some anger at my inability to write, but there's been nothing but support. And I've got the most reviews I've ever had for one story - 111! _

_Thank you. _

_I've split this chapter into two smaller chapters and written way more than I thought possible :) so there's at least one more on the way. Sorry for the wait, A-level results and university whatnot got in the way…_

_This chapter is for _RevolutionChick_, who made an absolutely stunning Scrubs video which must have taken much patience and hard work. It just… fits. If I hadn't have known the Scrubs plotline, I really would've thought the things depicted in her video had happened on the show. Many many hugs and thanks to you. Please go and check it out :) there's a link on my profile._

Chapter 9: My not so good news

………

………

_Elliot's POV_

I just don't know what to do. I've kinda been obsessing over my work lately, so I don't have to think about JD and I… I really _miss_ him.

I mean, is it possible to miss someone when they're still around? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss the old him, the JD that I could just go and talk to about what's been bothering me - the JD who'd make me see the funny side of things, who'd make me laugh and then spend his afternoon having an awesome marshmallow fight with me and letting me win.

Okay, so the marshmallow thing only happened twice, but still… the thing is, I know what's bothering me this time, and I also know that I just can't tell him about it. I mean _he's_ the one who's going through it, the rest of us only have to watch. I just feel like I'm being really selfish feeling like I do, you know?

He just looks so ill. Like he's going to break or something. And because I know the risks he's facing and I know his chances of making it through this disease, for some reason that makes it so much harder to see him like this.

Why did it have to be JD? I know we all moan about him every now and then, but he really is just the nicest guy I've ever met.

I was going to go in and see him yesterday but he was watching a film with Turk and Carla and I guess I just felt out of place.

I peered in through the glass door and I swear, I almost went inside to join them but the Janitor took that moment to come up behind me and scare the _bejeebers_ out of me. I thought he was a crazy stalker or something! Which you know, hasn't really happened to me before, and of course I don't think I actually _have_ a crazy stalker - except for maybe that guy at the coffee place in town who keeps looking at me over the top of his mocha frappicino - but thanks to my mother and her phone call yesterday, I was convinced that the whole world was out to get me.

… I guess I've been ringing her up a lot lately, and yes I know that really I'm just trying to find a substitute for JD… but it's a really stupid thing to do because she doesn't help in the slightest…

"Have you watched the news?" she had said, whispering urgently into the phone as if someone might hear her. "There are killers and murderers all over the place! And sweetie, I know you're probably safe because you're not as pretty as some girls, but you should still be on the look out."

_Why_ do I always call her? "Mom, that's the last thing I need to think about right now! Look, I know I called you, but you're really not helping okay? Next time I ring could you just hang up on me?"

A soft laugh. "Oh don't be ridiculous honey, you know how much I love our phone calls. Now you know Cousin Valerie – yes the fat one - "

… The point is, I wasn't in a happy place. And when the Janitor sneaked up on me I swear I almost had a heart attack.

"Frick! Janitor you scared me!" I managed to whisper frantically, a hand over my wildly beating heart. "What're you doing sneaking up on people like that?" I blew my bangs out of my eyes.

"Whoops, sorry Blonde doctor." Said the Janitor with a smile, leaning on his mop a little. "I uh… just like to sneak really. I'm a sneaker by choice; it's what we sneakers do. I've got a sneakers club if you want to join… Well it's not so much a club as it is me and my cousin Rage. He's got a sledgehammer." He nodded as if that was a sensible thing to say and made a sledgehammer motion with his hands.

"… Uh, what?" I said with a frown and a small turn of my head.

The Janitor shrugged back harmlessly. Huh… maybe he _is_ as weird as JD keeps insisting he is… I just took several deep breaths to calm myself down then went back to watching JD.

"So… watching Scooter are ya?" the Janitor asked casually. "Yeah… I was doing that for a while, but it got a little boring. All he does is lie there and sleep, and wake up and scream when you tower over him with a dead squirrel, and then sleep some more… It get's a bit tiresome."

"I am _not_ watching him." I said, on the defensive. Even though I don't really know why I was so touchy, seeing as it was pretty obvious that I _was_ watching him. Oh frick, what was wrong with me that I couldn't even go in and comfort my best friend when he had leukemia?

"Riiight. I gotcha." The Janitor said quietly and winked at me knowingly. I watched him confusedly as he walked away down the corridor, whistling.

I... I mean I wasn't _spying_ on JD or anything, was I? I was just checking to see how he was because I couldn't go in there and talk to him - I had _so_ much work to do, it was unbelievable. I was just so busy.

As I was thinking this I walked backwards, away from JD's room and the hum of whatever movie they were watching - and the next thing I knew I was tripping over. And then I found myself flat on my back on the cold tiled floor, with my hair in my face. I spit it out of my mouth frustratedly.

There was a grinning drunken face above mine, so I guessed I knocked straight into Dan.

Frickety frick! I really hate being so clumsy - but at least I wasn't holding a coffee this time, I mean can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been?

"Hey-o, watch it!" said Dan with a smile that wasn't as bright as I remember it being. He looked at me blearily as I got back to my feet and tried to act as casual as possible. "Oh, hey…" Then he clicked his fingers as if trying to remember my name.

"Elliot!" I screeched. Then realised I shouldn't screech and said quieter, "It's Elliot, remember? Elliot Reed?"

"Yeah, Elliot, 'course." Hmm, he smelled of booze and bathwater, not a nice combination, I twitched my nose a little. "You been to see my little brother?" he asked, jerking a thumb towards JD's room.

_Oh god_, I thought frantically, _why did he have to ask me that? What do I say? I mean, if I say yes then he'll go in and tell JD and it'll be all awkward because I haven't seen him in like, forever, but if I say no then Dan'll want to know why and the only reason I haven't seen JD is because if I do I'll just want to tell him about all of my troubles and that's the last thing he needs right now – oh God, I'm crazy aren't I? Double, triple frick!_

"Hellooo?" asked Dan, waving a hand in front of my vacant face, with an eyebrow raised.

So I let it all burst out of my mouth as usual. "Oh uh, no I haven't seen him – well that is – not yet, you know? But I'm not avoiding him or anything! Oh, oh _god_ no - I'm just _so_ busy, I've got so much work to do and -"

"Yeah, I'm avoiding him too." Dan said, swigging from a beer he had loosely grasped in his hand.

I blinked at him, feeling an odd relief. I wasn't the only one who couldn't deal with this?

"Listen," Dan was saying drunkenly, "if you're too busy to see him later on too, do ya fancy coming out? I just…" he looked down at the cold tiled floor of the hospital, his voice trailing off. "You know… if you fancy it."

And I knew it was weird but I nodded my head back. "Sure." I said.

Because I knew that JD probably needed the both of us right now - but I also knew that we both needed someone to be JD. And I guess we needed to fix ourselves before we could help anyone else.

"I can't stand seeing him like this." I said quietly, before I could stop myself. And I sniffed a little. Dan offered me a spare beer from god knows where but I declined it. "I'm off shift in half an hour," I said, "meet you out front, okay?"

"You got it 'lliot." Said Dan.

………

_Dr Cox's POV_

Kid's finished the chemo course now. Finally.

I rub at my eyes tiredly with the heel of my hand. I'm in my own bed for the first night in what seems like a very long while, but it's really only a couple of days. Still, Barbara owes me a good few hours which I'll be squeezing outta him once he's starting to feel better. I've got one arm cushioned behind my head, eyes staring up at the ceiling as if it's got all the answers.

In case you were wondering, it hasn't.

The dragon's beside me, snoring in that attractive way she does. A frown on her face and a growl on her lips. My _god_, she's beautiful.

Aw hell, I gotta resist the urge to wake her up and you know… definitely _nawt_ share my feelings with her… just unload on her. Just shift a bit of my emotional baggage onto her back instead of mine, that's all. But there are so many reasons why that's a bad idea so I decide that staring at the ceiling is good enough for me, and resolve to get no sleep at all tonight.

Besides, I know exactly what she'd say. She'd roll over and groan that I'd woken her up and slap my arm - which would leave a bruise 'cause she's been getting stronger lately carrying Jack around all day. Then she'd roll those death-rays she calls eyes and tell me that the reason I can't sleep is because I'm thinking about the kid. I'm just getting soft. Now I better leave her the hell alone or she'll eat me.

And damn it, she's right. About the kid that is.

On that first day of chemo, he scared the crap outta all of us. And yeah, the great Perry Cox is actually saying that the kid scared me, it happens. Not very often, but it damn sure happens.

Except this time it wasn't because he was being such a girl I was scared I was gonna catch it, or he'd made a stupid medical mistake, or he'd told Jordan all about my schedule so I couldn't take any time for myself, this time - hell, this time I think I was scared _for_ him.

The idiot.

I came by his room to check that his treatment was all set up – wouldn't trust some of the idiot staff here with a pair of safety scissors let alone setting an IV – and o'course, Newbie was sat up in bed all pale and shaky, and he had those big dark patches under his eyes that made him look so unlike the Newbie we all knew… but I was expecting all of that. I am a _doctor_ after all - it wasn't any of the actual leukemia or chemotherapy symptoms that bothered me.

Him and his girl pals were watching some chick flick which, ya know_,_ I growled at, but had to sit through seeing as I couldn't bring myself to just walk out when the kid had already seen me.

Yadda yadda. It was normal for Newbie to watch utter drivel, so it wasn't the choice of movie that bothered me either.

"Oh dear god Newbie." I said, rolling my eyes. I mean, for god's sake – he was snuggled up watching _Titanic _of all things? Maybe while he's here I can order a test and see if he actually is a teenage drama queen on the inside. I'm surprised we managed to get some blood out of him before and not some kinda pink fluffy goop. "Could you be any more of a girl if you tried? Turn this crap off would ya?"

Turtlehead turned his head and pouted at me.

I grumbled in my head - I was actually _trying_ here. It might not have looked like it, but that was kinda my plan. Look like you don't give a crap when you actually do, that's my motto in life. So Baldie better watch it.

Newbie smiled a little at me 'cause he knows these things aren't easy for me, and in spite of myself, I felt something in me lighten a bit. Kid hadn't been looking his best for a while now, but when he smiled it sure made a hell of a difference.

"Don't be silly," Newbie said, waving away my insult as if he's grown so used to them they no longer sting. Hmmph, we'll see about that, kid. "We're -" And then Newbie stopped mid-sentence, and closed his eyes tightly like he was in pain.

"Bambi just try and breathe, okay?" said Carla soothingly, "The basin's right here, but you can breathe through this."

I knew the chemo had got to be a bitch, so I left Lillian alone for a few minutes curled up on his side like a child, before I did the usual Perry thing and tried to snap him outta it.

"Hey, Tina." I said, putting less bite into it than usual. "You're missing your chick-flick."

But the kid just shut his eyes tighter and closed himself off completely. And yeah… you got it. _That's_ the bit that bothered me.

Newbie didn't respond for well over ten minutes, which on its own was enough to make me uneasy. This was much longer than one of his usual zone outs. And this particular fantasy didn't leave the kid all dreamy eyed and dopey and muttering some crap that made me doubt his masculinity.

Instead when I finally got the damn idiot to snap back into the real world, he... ah shit… he had that look in his eyes - the one that scares me.

Kid looked out of it, like he'd rather be anywhere else than here. Even after those long shifts he used to pull as an intern, and the all-nighters he'd sneak in when he refused to leave one of his patients alone, I hadn't seen him look this bad… this tired, or this desperate.

Damn it Newbie.

I scrub at my eyes again angrily. The ceiling still doesn't have any answers - shit, it never does.

I growl slightly, push back the covers and get up, my bare feet padding across the floor as I head for the kitchen. Jordon grunts and rolls over in her sleep, clawing at the pillow in that sweet possessive way she does. But she doesn't wake and I seem to get away with it.

I swipe at my nose. I'm getting too close to the kid, and that's the _only_ problem here. Just getting too damn close.

I mean, come on, it's a lose-lose situation if I keep going on like this. Either the kid kicks the bucket and I'm left feeling sorry for myself because I let someone get close again and they - well they go and die on me, and then inevitably I'll drink away those sorrows 'til I enter the early stages of liver failure.

Or the alternative scenario is that the kid lives, and I'm left with him suckered to my side like a girly leech for the rest of my life. Dear lord… he'll want to preen my hair and be best friends for ever and ever-est just because I shared my feelings in a tiny moment of weakness.

To be honest, I don't know which outcome is worse. And god damn it, I just can't do this. Maybe it's time to start leaving him on his own a bit.

Coffee is what I need… Coffee or scotch or both.

………

_Jordan's POV_

I can always tell when things are bothering Perry. Hell, I guess it's just one of my many gifts. Either that or it's because I'm incredibly nosy about everything that goes on in his life that doesn't involve me or Jack. And you know, I _may_ have been spying on him lately…

Meh.

Whatever. In case you were wondering, it's DJ that's bothering Per-bear. Yeah, that ridiculously nerdy girly idiot who none of us can manage to get rid of, no matter how hard we try. He's practically harmless anyway, so we manage to put up with him most of the time.

The thing is, and I don't know _how_ it happened, but DJ wedged his way into Perry's life. And with him getting all sick and dying and stuff, Per doesn't know how to act around him anymore.

And the more he doesn't know how to act, the more he can't sleep - and the more _he_ can't sleep, the more _I_ can't sleep… because he rings me up to annoy me and 'check on Jack' when all he's really doing is distracting himself... God Per, you are so transparent.

And what you've got to understand here is that _I need my beauty sleep._ Or I will actually maul someone. It's happened before.

So I guess I've just got to give Perry a kick in the right direction... for the sake of the unattractive bags under my eyes… or I could just try and slip him some sleeping pills, but those can be expensive so I'll try the whole 'helping' thing out first.

Who knows, maybe I'll feel all warm and fuzzy inside?

Ha. That's a good one.

I know I'm not _really_ in the position to judge Perry seeing as I'm not the most emotional of people either… But of course that doesn't mean I'm _not_ gonna judge him. Judging other people is what I do best, especially if that person is Perry - you know I really think he's starting to appreciate my meddling.

So I really let him have it - though I use the daylight version seeing as our son is in the same room and he sure loves to repeat all the naughty words mummy and daddy yell at each other.

"This is getting ridiculous Perry!" I whine. "You and I both know that somehow or other, you ended up caring for DJ – and don't get me wrong that's most likely his fault, what with the way he follows you around like your little lapdog all the time. But you _can_ let people in you know, it's not gonna hurt anything but your stupid man-pride." I put my hands on my hips. "I mean, you let your son in – and don't even try and pretend you didn't because you know it was me that caught you sniffling all over him when he said 'Pewwy' for the first time."

Per just frowns at me. Okay, well, that's probably because we're having breakfast and until now, we kinda haven't said a word to each other. I glare back, in that way that can make grown men fall at my feet, and raise my eyebrows expectantly for the fight.

Perry scowls as my words sink in. Aw, come on Per-bear, you can do better than that.

"Please," he says, trying to keep Jackie from pouring soggy cereal all over his head, while squinting his eyes at me as if he can't believe I've said such a thing, "dear God, _please_, don't tell me ya just compared Newbie to my _son_. Because ya know I would have to _kill_ you."

I just snort loudly and roll my eyes. "Well of course I did Per-per, he practically is."

There's a short silence after that.

Per kinda looks shocked… or disgusted. Like he wants to run away or tear his hair out – it's the look he usually has whenever I bring up things that are uncomfortable for him. Namely his feelings and, you _know_, his feelings.

Hmm, he also looks like he hasn't got much sleep, which may be why he's not putting up a good argument against me like he usually would.

Jack giggles, clawing at the multicoloured O's in his bowl as if he can feel the tension in the room. He's such a cutie. Maybe we should cut those talons of his before he pokes someone's eye out… or maybe we should leave them so those play school friends of his know not to mess with my Jack Jack.

There's a growl this time. Oh, _right. _Yeah. Perry's still in the room. I remember I'm in my meddling mode, which is just _so_ much fun. Him and DJ, best pals forever - it really is shocking stuff.

"No no no no no no no no. _No_." Per says, shaking his head. "He is nawt _anything_ to me, in fact he's pretty much nothing. I think you're confusing 'liking' with 'complete loathing' again Jorderoo – I don't _like_ the kid, I _hate_ him."

"Oh come on, you've gotten all _close_ to him, it's sweet honey." I say with that annoying knowing smile that I know makes him so angry.

"You take that back. Take it back right now." Perry's voice has taken on that dangerously low tone, the one that usually make me back up and rethink my insult. But this time I know that I've just gotten close to his fluffy core. "Newbie is not, and never will be, _anything_ to me – unless you're counting of course a ridiculously annoying, and ri-hi-_diculously_ girly, thorn in my side."

I just smile wider and it kinda stretches my lips a little what with the new collagen I just treated myself to.

I pick Jackie up like the good mummy that I am and before I leave the room, I kiss Perry on the cheek - which is a really rare display of affection for me seeing as I usually just reserve the bites, scratches and burns for him.

"Aw you just keep telling yourself that Per-bear," I tell him with my chirpy smile, "everyone knows what you really think. Even _Jack_ knows, isn't that right honey?"

Jack nods obediently, arms clasped around my neck. I love the way I've trained our son against Perry, but really it's Perry's fault for leaving me alone with him all day – I mean, what does he think we're going to do? Watch the _carebears_?

I hitch Jack up a little, saying in my 'mummy' voice, "Who does Daddy love like a son but is too afraid to admit it to himself because of his self-obsessed macho image and huge ego?"

"Unca DJ!" Burbles Jack happily.

"Aw, there you go honey." I give Jack a kiss on the cheek too, "mwah!" seeing as I'm feeling so generous this morning. Then I glare at Perry. "Now give him that damn hug or I will _eat_ you. And don't think I won't because that new diet I'm on is making me crave things!"

As I leave I see Perry put his face in his hands and groan loudly.

My work here is done, now maybe I get some decent sleep around here.

………

_JD's POV_

I wake sluggishly, my eyes unable to open for a good ten minutes.

Urgh… what's happening to me? No, don't answer that brain, of course I know what it is. A three day course of chemo really can take it out of a guy, particularly if that guy is me.

I mean if most people are like big strong pineapples… well, then I'm one of those flimsy fruit cups you get from the cafeteria… All flippy floppy and useless, and absolutely no good in a stampede against real fruit… I'm sure there was some kind of comparison in there somewhere but I'm too tired to make any sense.

"It was _something_ about pineapples…" I murmur sleepily.

Hmm, my mind wanders off into the land of recent memories - which contains mostly this room, the inside of a bucket, and the concerned faces of whoever happened to swing by and take a look in while I felt very sick and tried to keep myself looking happy.

Turk kept me company most of the time through the chemo, making me smile and laugh and watching Cheers with me - and even letting me get in a hug every now and then too. Man, he really knows how to cheer me up.

"Dude, I know they said you're supposed to eat the cafeteria food… but that stuff is nasty. So I got you some pizza instead."

"Is it pineapple?" I asked all snuggled in my covers. Too tired to move, but feeling a little warm for all the blankets Carla piled on me. I still had a fever.

Turk rolled his eyes. "Dude, of course it is - would your C-bear get you anything else?" He scooped up a slice and shovelled it into his mouth. "Mmm…" he says around the food, "Do you remember that time we had pineapple pizza on the roof?"

I nodded tiredly. "Yeah… that was so _good_… you know, apart from getting attacked and all. What was that thing anyway?"

"I don't know man… but it had teeth. My point is - _everybody_ likes pineapple pizza. And I know it makes you feel better V-bear."

So we sat and ate the yummy pizza, and for a moment or two I was ridiculously happy. Although my tummy sure made me regret it afterwards.

Oh Mr. Tummy, you and I are going to have stern words about this rejecting my favourite foods business. It's no fun for either of us.

I gotta say though, even though I love Turk, I'm finding myself missing Elliot. I'm gonna try and snag her later on - we need to catch up and I'm not gonna let this silly cancer thing get in the way of that. I sure hope she doesn't let it either.

Anyway silly me, I've got to get out of my head, it's a big day today now the chemo's over for a while.

I let my eyes wander tiredly around my room. It's morning; a crisp sunny morning by the looks of the warm tingly light seeping through the curtains, just the kind I would have loved.

On a day like this, me and Turk would have snuck off on our break from the hospital and taken Rowdy for a walk in the park, and then we'd sit beneath the trees, eating ice cream and reminiscing. And doing the best Eagles summer could bring.

But that's not gonna happen, at least, not today. My friends have gotten incredibly protective of me, and to be honest, it's a wonder I'm not wrapped in bubble wrap right now and kept on a life support machine or something.

"It's for your own good Bambi!" says daydream Carla, loudly, so that I can hear through the thick wad of plastic and earmuffs surrounding my ears. Bubble wrap's not so fun when it's cutting off your view of the outside world.

I much prefer to use it for dancing on in a park.

You know, I can feel it happening... I hate to get all morbid on you, but I'm slowly getting weaker and weaker and I don't like it one bit. Each time I wake it takes longer to become aware of my surroundings. Each time I see my friends it's harder to keep up my smile.

It's like I'm old - like one of the patients on the geriatric ward, as if I know that soon I won't have the energy to leave this bed anymore. I'll sit here, huddled in the scratchy hospital blankets, surrounded by wires and beeping machines until my body finally gives up on me.

I shake my head rapidly, which leaves me feeling _real_ dizzy for a moment or two, but suits its purpose of getting the nasty thoughts outta my brain.

No no no.

This isn't me! I just can't _do_ this, all this sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I need some happiness. I need a burst of normality before I turn into a depressed lump of goop…

No matter how bad things look, they almost always look up in the end. Right? I mean, I might feel exhausted, but I'm going to get better. I just know I'm going to get better, because that's what I do best.

Man… all this thinking's made me tired… I cradle my aching head, and sink back into the pillows a bit. My eyelids are all heavy.

There's a soft knock on the door and I blearily look up to see Turk and Carla, they've come for their usual morning visit before their shifts start. I greet them with a tired but grateful smile.

"Hey," I manage to say, softly. It doesn't really sound like my usually chirpy self, but I'll put that down to me still being half asleep. Besides, now that my friends are here I'm going to be fine. They always make me feel better.

"Hey Vanilla bear," Turk sits in the chair by my bed with a grin. He's got his worried eyes again. He's concerned about me, but he still grins as if knows that I don't want to see him upset. That's my SCB. "How're you doing man?"

I breathe for a minute and just smile at him. He's wearing his familiar green scrubs and for some reason this tiny bit of normal life makes me very happy. "Perfect." I reply, but it's an effort to get the word out of my mouth.

Carla pushes the hair back on my forehead with her soft fingers. Mmm… nice. I lean into the warm touch like it's a cuddle, or one of those cool handwarmery things that you put in the microwave. Those are good. "Dan should be back soon Bambi, he's just gone out to our place to pick up some things, okay?"

I close my eyes and nod as she moves her palm down to cup my cheek.

I don't think Dan's picking things up, I think Dan's avoiding me. But I don't say anything, and I certainly don't blame him.

He's just not good with this kinda stuff, and to be honest I'm just happy that he came in the first place. Plus, we're bone marrow buddies… you can't break a bond like that.

I just hope someone can snap him outta his depressed state, because the last thing I need my bone marrow buddy to do is go and drown himself in the bath and drink so much beer he passes out while naked again…

Dan seemed fine with everything. Well, he seemed uncomfortable, but still okay about it. That is until the time of my second day of chemo came around, when he just kinda showed up drunk, took one look at me and then stumbled off.

I was feeling particularly poorly that day, and I hope I didn't scare him as much as I scared myself. Man… I really hope he's okay. But I can't exactly get up and go look for him right now.

"Rowdy's been missing you V-bear." Turk says, bringing me out of my thoughts. He grins at me, looking to his wife and then back with an almost gleeful look. I have a feeling Rowdy's been up to some mischief. "He's been scaring Carla even more now that you're not around to take care of him. I swear he's gone feral, like some wild animal or something – dude, I'm telling you, we need to get him in here asap for some vanilla loving, or he's gonna go _crazy_."

Carla rolls her eyes, scowling slightly and looking at me under her dark eye lashes, "He's not lying Bambi, everywhere I turn is that damn dog of yours. We're thinking about setting him up here with you so I can get a decent night's sleep."

Hmm. I put my pondering face on. Rowdy at my bedside day and night - a constant companion until the end. "I'd like that." I say, breathily, trying to get my head to stay upright when all it wants to do is snuggle in the pillow. Carla's hand helps. "Rowdy could keep watch over me… like a guard dog."

"Dude," says Turk, grinning still and rolling his eyes, "he _is_ a guard dog. Don't you remember?"

I smile wider at that, and can feel the skin being pulled taught at the corners of my mouth. "Oh yeah, he's an ex-police dog… SWAT team…"

You see, Turk and I had made up a collection of various death-defying tales about what Rowdy had previously done before becoming our beloved pet.

Of course, he had been a police dog in London, spent a short time in Thailand teaching children the basics of cooking banana pancakes, and had even walked the entire wall of China with nothing but a bag of peanuts to keep him going.

Rowdy suddenly sprouts a red cape and matching mask in my mind's eye, as he flies over the moon to some wacky 80's theme tune.

Dun dun dun, dun dun dun! He's a dog of wonder!

"He's a wonder dog." I finish dreamily.

The atmosphere lightens after this, and Turk and Carla are both smiling widely now. I guess they're glad to have some ordinariness back with me and my daydreams. They needn't worry; I seem to be daydreaming a lot more nowadays… I just find myself slipping off. Even though I try not to after that whole fiasco with Titanic.

"Hey. Delilah." I blink a little. See what I mean? Off in my own little world where everything is calm and I'm not lying in this bed wishing I could feel the soft green grass of freedom between my toes.

"Hmm?" I murmur, looking up. Usually when I'm shocked I'd be screaming and flinging up my hands to cover my face… yeah I know, I gotta work on that not acting so girly thing… But now I just don't have the energy. Besides, it's just Dr Cox, and he's holding my chart to his chest which means he's here for medical reasons.

I let out a little disgruntled sigh. I sure wish he was holding _me_ to his chest right now because I sure could use the comfort.

I wonder if I'll ever get my super Perry hug… hmmph, why must he always stand so far away from me? Does he suspect that I'm gonna dive in and give him a much-needed cuddle?

There's also my oncologist in the room, although he doesn't fill me with much confidence because he's just smiling nervously and not saying a word.

Aw man, I know that nervous smile. It's the _things-haven't-gone-well_ smile. It's the _oops_ smile. It's the _the-patient-might-freak-out-get-some-sedative_ smile. Well, maybe I'm overreacting with the last one.

Please don't let it be bad news. I cross my fingers quickly. Please please please please please please -

Turk elbows me a little. Oops, think I was whispering that last bit out loud. I snap my lips together, and look at Dr Cox hopefully.

"I'm going to be frank with you here Newbie," Dr Cox says. He looks tired. His face is more drawn than usual, and his eyes are a duller shade of blue. I feel the guilt tug at my chest, knowing that it's me who's done this. My illness has taken a strain on all of my friends. "It's not looking good."

Aw damn.

Dr Cox hands me my own chart which I take quietly. My heart beats a little faster. Either he's giving it to me because he thinks I'm a capable enough doctor to find out for myself how the treatment's gone, or he just doesn't want to tell me himself.

I skim my eyes over it hesitantly. Oh.

I put the chart down, carefully breathing in and then out as if my lungs have forgotten the simple notion of taking in air. It looks like the cancer's not responding too well to the chemotherapy. And I'm also a little worse for wear if these stats are anything to go by. I won't bore you with the medical jargon… to tell the truth I don't want to look at it too much because my head is pounding, and the words can't fit into my brain what with the sledgehammer, and all the other noisy things in there...

"V-bear?" Turk asks me quietly. I nudge my chart over to him, and try to stop my fingers and their accursed fiddling with my blanket.

"Oh, Bambi." Says Carla after they've both flicked their eyes over my evil chart of not-nice-ness.

But I just smile, and wave it all aside. I lift my eyes from the covers to look at the nervous faces of my friends and my oncologist, and the stony visage of Dr Cox. "It's going to get better, don't worry about it – just a teeny setback." I say positively. "I already feel a little better."

I don't. At least not yet, but chemotherapy is like that. You feel terrible at first, but things get better. And I most definitely will get better. Turk gives me an awkward shoulder squeeze and Carla offers a watery smile. I decide not to look at the oncologist or I may lose my composure… But Dr Cox I can do.

He seems a lot less open than before, I think he's full swing into Doctor mode and he's not shifting. Darn. No hug for me today either.

Dr Cox looks at me, hard, with something unreadable there behind that big emotion blockade he's put up. But before I can tell what it is, he looks away, and those dulled eyes are boring a hole in the wall over to the right, above my head.

"It's a good job your brother's a match Harriet." He says a bit coldly. Oh fiddlesticks. Was that concern that I saw? Or was Dr Cox just angry that even after all of this, my optimism still shines through? "We're gonna start you up on a dose of radiation to follow your chemo seeing as you're so attached to that leukemia of yours..."

I guess I will never know.

I just smile at him and push myself up against the pillows so I'm half sitting up. The small action has exhausted me for the moment. It's a while before I speak, but I take care to look my mentor in the eye when I do, because _this,_ my friends, is going to take all of the J-dizzle's persuasive techniques.

"Dr Cox…" I start carefully; hmm, this is oddly reminiscent of asking my parents for something I know I shouldn't have. But really really want. "I want to get out for a bit."

There's a general sense of unease in the room.

Dr Cox raises his eyebrows at me and flicks his nose, "Just _what_ did you say there Newbie?" Ah the dangerous stance, haven't seen you in a while. "I must _nawt_ have heard you right, because there is no damn way you're in any fit state to go gallivanting around the place there."

"I don't want to… gallivant." I manage to say, everything takes the longest time to get out, but I'm not letting that stop me. "Just put me in a wheelchair, and leave me under a tree." Breathe. "It's a beautiful day outside."

"No." Dr Cox says simply, and folds his arms.

Maybe my puppy dog eyes will work. I skilfully turn on my innocent blue eyed look, "… please?" I say, pouting my bottom lip a little.

But it's like throwing kittens at a brick wall. "Don't even try it on me Newbie."

I clench my hands where they lie curled on the covers, "Look…" I say breathily, "I know you probably don't think I'm up for it, but… I kinda _need_ this… I don't want…" I hate myself for thinking it, but… I don't want this to be the last place I… ah man, I just really _really_ want to go outside. Just for a bit. Just for a small breath of fresh summer air.

Carla looks at me a little worriedly and takes one of my hands in hers, "I'm not sure that's a good idea Bambi. Maybe once you're feeling better hmm? You just don't look like you'd be up to it today."

I frown and turn to my Chocolate bear for assistance. But he just echoes Carla. "Yeah man, not a good plan."

No - can't he see that I can't stay cooped up in here? _Please_ Chocolate bear. I think it really hard, hoping that we're somehow telepathic, being brother bears and everything.

"How about I come down and we can play toe-finger later, yeah?" No no no. Darn brain, why can't you have the power of telepathy? As I start to protest, Turk just shakes his head the tiniest fraction so the other occupants of my room can't see. His mouth is quirking with a small mischievous smile.

And then he _winks_.

I imagine I can hear his voice in my head.

_Man we're brother bears, _says the Turk in my head, while the real Turk nods knowingly at me,_ of course I can hear you! We're gonna bust this joint, you just leave it to me._

I just knew he would understand! Gotta love my Chocolate bear.

I pretend to be disappointed, my heart beating wildly at the thought of an escape with my best friend. Into the unknown - like two bandits stealing off into the night, or two prisoners sawing through the bars with a file they'd had their mother smuggle inside a cake, and making a break for it out of the window…

I don't quite think I'd manage to get out through the window in my condition, but it would be a darn sight more exciting than using the front door.

"I guess you're right, maybe I do feel a little tired today." I sigh a little dramatically and lower my eyes.

In my head I'm doing a special J-Dizzle victory dance.

… I wonder if we can take Rowdy with us outside? Then it could be just like any other day and we could get ice creams and just sit. Sit and smile and talk, like we normally would.

Dr Cox proceeds to ramble off my stats to me in his doctorly way, only I don't really care to know how fast my body is deteriorating, especially seeing as I had to read them myself. I think I'd be better off being oblivious to the many ways in which my body is shutting down.

I just… don't want to know.

………

………

_Thanks for reading_


	10. Chapter 10: Taking Rowdy For a Walk

_This may well be the last chapter for a while folks – I'm at uni now and as such have too much work, too little money and am living solely off the scraps that I find on the floor… But thank you to those who reviewed for your lovely support and kind words! I love you and shall try to write more as soon as I find the time. _

Chapter 10: Taking Rowdy for a walk

………

………

_Elliot's POV_

So here we are… me and Dan, in some bar. And at the moment I'm kicking myself for even thinking this would be a good idea – so far it's just been awkward. We're both just sitting on some bar stools and sipping on our beers, and… not talking.

Frick! Why is this so uncomfortable? Maybe I should start off with what we both want to get off our chests?

"So uh…" I say, blowing some hair out of my eyes.

"Yeah." Says Dan. Then he takes an almighty glug of beer and orders another one with a wave of his hand. Oh God, I really really don't want to be left babysitting Dan while he drinks away his liver.

"Listen," I start carefully, "I don't know why you wanted to come out tonight, but I do know why _I_ did."

"Yeah, you so totally wanted to score with me," Dan says, looking me up and down, "Chicks dig the emotionally crippled my-brother's-got-leukemia act… and I don't mind 'cause you're kinda hot in a scary sorta way…"

"Dan!" I do my best to look offended – you know, while secretly I'm a bit flattered. He really thinks I'm hot? I feel my heart swell, ha, yes! And I thought I'd been letting myself down lately, I mean I haven't been sleeping as much, but I guess none of us have...

Oh… what am I doing - this isn't the right time to think about how hot I look, this is about JD.

Dan's grinning drunkenly at me and swigging from his beer bottle.

This is about JD and how we've both been doing the selfish thing and avoiding him when he really needs us. He just doesn't deserve this.

I take a sip of beer and shake my head a little sadly, "Look Dan, you and I both know that we came here because we're taking the coward's way out and not seeing JD." I say bluntly.

Dan shifts a little on his stool and cradles his beer that's on the counter top with both hands. He doesn't look at me for a while. "Yep, I'd say that pretty much sums it up." He admits with a small and somewhat sad smirk. "I've been avoiding him like crazy." Then he stares at the bar for so long I wonder if he's slipped off into a daydream - just like JD would, but then he takes a deep breath. "I dunno what to do." He says finally, quietly. "I can't go in there with him like that. I mean, what am I s'posed to say? I'm no good with the emotional hoo-ha and he knows it."

Now this is the stuff I was expecting to hear. I lean closer. "I know what you mean, but I don't think he needs us to say anything. I've been avoiding him all through his chemotherapy, and the truth is… I'm just scared. The truth is he could die, and I just can't handle that."

"Pfft." Says Dan, chugging his beer and then offering me a crooked smile. "He's not gonna die. My baby bro's invincible."

But I think we both know that he isn't. JD's anything but invincible, he's like some small fragile flower that Doctor Cox tramples on every now and then.

"He needs us right now." I say. And I immediately feel guilty for coming out to this bar in the first place when I could be sitting in with JD and just talking. God, I've been such an idiot.

"It's not gonna make a difference if'm there or not." Dan orders yet another beer, and his words are beginning to slur into one long line of gibberish. "He wa'always the one who fixed things... you know, I remember I kept breaking his bike… he called it Benny the _wonder_ bike… such a girl, it wa' pink but he kept saying it was purple… and every time I pushed it over or kinda beat the crap outta it, he'd always just go right ahead and fix it again."

I'm not quite sure if this is just one of Dan's drunken ramblings, or whether he has a point. He turns to look at me and presses his lips together. He looks so sad, all blue eyed with those same eyes that he shares with JD, that I don't really know what to say. So I keep quiet for once and let him finish.

"I… I never fix things, I just end up ruining them," he says, "an' I'll just end up ruining him too."

………

_JD's POV_

A few hours later and Turk arrives looking incredibly guilty as he quickly pushes in a wheelchair, glancing over his shoulder as if sure that Carla knows what he's up to. I can almost hear the theme music from _Mission Impossible_ playing as he hurries to the side of my bed.

We're finally getting out of here! Well, by we, I mean me – seeing as Turk's been lucky enough to leave whenever he wants to… although, I don't think that he actually has left. Except to buy me pizza.

Man, I want to hug him 'til there's no hug left in me.

"You sure you're still up for this?" Turk whispers at me worriedly. But I just treat him to my widest smile. He nods.

It's an effort getting out of bed, and I'm thankful that I persuaded the nurses to let me wear a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, or this would be a whole lot more awkward right now.

Turk dumps a jumper over my head and pulls up the hood. Heh, a disguise. I like it. "Take it easy Vanilla Bear," Turk says, gripping my arms as I stumble the ten centimetres from my bed to the wheelchair.

By the time I'm sitting down, I'm exhausted, and there are dark splodges eating away at my vision. I hold my head for a minute until they go away.

"Let's go," I say, and then look up, trying to show just how grateful I am without ruining the moment, "… and thanks Chocolate bear."

"Hey it's no problem man," he answers, taking out a small blank sheet of paper from my chart and scribbling something on it, "just so long as you don't have some major heart attack while we're outside, or Carla finds out that I've kidnapped you… we should be just fine."

He puts the paper back on my bed, and I see the words _'Taken Rowdy for a walk, please don't kill us' _on it and I smile.

Even if we do get killed, this is so worth it.

Turk seats Rowdy comfortably on my lap and then goes to the door. "Here," he says quietly, "You get to carry Rowdy while I try and figure out how to get past Laverne… This is a team effort buddy, now you remember that ninja tape we watched, right?"

I nod enthusiastically, but inside I know that nothing and nobody ever really gets past Laverne, no matter how many ninja tapes you might've watched. That woman has the eyes of a hawk, I swear.

But maybe, just maybe, she'll let us go anyway. She knows I don't want to be cooped up in bed. I mean, she actually caught me a couple of days ago after I blinked away a daydream about escaping, and found myself with one foot hanging out of the window and a knee on the ledge.

"Q-tip. What in the _hell_ are you doing?" She had said with a disapproving shake of her head. She helped me get back under the covers, brown hair swishing back and forth. Oh, how I wish I could get mine to look that glossy... and it smelt like cherries too. "I'm sorry, but you ain't getting nowhere like that honey."

She was right; I didn't even know what I was doing. I just felt like I needed to get outside. As if leaving this claustrophobic room would make everything better - and yes, I know it probably won't do anything medically… but it'll make me feel so much happier on the inside. And that's what really counts, right?

I sigh at the memory and stroke Rowdy's head as he sits contented in my lap. Well, I say sits, but his legs aren't really that bendy so all he can really do is stand. As me and Turk found out when we tried to teach him how to surf. "Did you miss me boy?" I ask him hopefully. "Bet the apartment's all lonely without me there, huh?"

Rowdy doesn't answer, but if he were alive I bet he'd be slobbering all over my face right now.

I find myself grinning from ear to ear as Turk pokes his head out of the door to check if the coast is clear, and whips it back inside to avoid being seen. It's as if we really are making a break for it. I fondle Rowdy's ear absently, "Hush Rowdy," I say, "they'll hear you and then we won't make it outside for your walk and ice cream…"

"All right, Laverne's busy reading up on her stories," Turk whispers, running behind me and grabbing the wheelchair handles. "If we hurry we can leg it outta here man. Ready?"

"Born ready C-bear!" I chirp, holding onto Rowdy tightly.

Turk speeds off out of the door like a madman, and my eyes are blurring as everything rushes past. Wow, he sure must have built up his calf muscles with all that basketball…

There are several shapes ahead that could be people, but Turk pays them no attention other than to swerve out of the way and whisper "Nearly there V-bear."

There's a squeak of wheels. Doors opening. I feel like Dr Cox is going to make an appearance any second now, swinging a samurai sword and cutting off my escape. But he doesn't.

I hear the doors slide shut behind us. We're out, we made it! Oh sweet sunshine on my face, I have missed you so!

Turk slows down a little now that we've made it outside, but we're still moving at a pretty fast pace as we head for the little strip of green grass and trees behind the hospital. It's such a beautiful day, and there are people everywhere, and birds and clouds and warm yummy smells.

"Just sit here and keep your hood up Vanilla bear, we're wanted men you know…"

Turk hefts Rowdy off of my lap, sets him lightly on the ground at my feet and then leaves the two of us under the tree to go and buy some ice cream.

I sit, well that's all I can really do in this wheelchair, but I also appreciate. The sun's warm on my pale skin, and I rub my fingers a little in the little dapples of sunlight that fall through the leaves above my head. It's so peaceful here, so relaxing. So… un-hospital-y… It's just what I needed.

I know it's not the best thing to do, but I carefully manoeuvre myself to stand up - and using the tree for leverage, I manage to get out of the wheelchair altogether. I plonk my ass on the grass beneath the trunk and gasp for breath. It takes me a minute to adjust, but after that I feel much better. I allow my fingers to trail in the grass and wriggle my bare toes contentedly.

Ah… It's just so normal out here, so every day. How I've missed it.

"JD man, you could've waited for me to help you…" I look up and there's Turk, holding a pair of the biggest ice creams I've ever seen. Guess his diabetes is taking a back seat… he doesn't look too angry with my change of location. In fact he looks a little relieved; I think he's just happy to know that I've got the strength to make it out of the chair by myself. He grins widely and passes me an ice cream dripping in raspberry sauce and rainbow sprinkles, just the way I like it, and then he sits himself next to me and Rowdy on the grass.

"Chocolate bear," I say, leaning my head back and breathing in all the delicious smells of summer.

"Yeah man?"

I turn my head slightly, but find that I don't really know what to say to him. I'm too grateful to be outside, too content. I just smile and take a lick of my ice cream. Then I say "any chance of an Eagle?"

He just grins.

After a while I've had enough of the icy snack dribbling all over my fingers when I can't lick it fast enough. So I kindly give it to Rowdy. The ice cream sits and melts in the grass as Rowdy gazes straight ahead. He's enjoying it.

………

_Laverne's POV_

Mmhmm, now that's more like it. I was starting to think that Q-tip was gonna stay cooped up in that room forever. Poor kid, any idiot could see he was getting uncomfortable, and after all that nasty chemotherapy he definitely deserves a break.

Let's just say I made _quite_ sure that all the nurses were busy, just around the time that hot shot surgeon of Carla's came by with a suspicious looking wheelchair and one of those hoody tops tucked under his arm.

I covered my smile with my magazine, and sure enough, after a few minutes of hushed whispering, out comes Q-tip all shacked up in the wheelchair with a hood pulled over his head, smiling just like he used to.

You go on Q-tip – you get out of here while the going's good.

I have to stop myself from shooing them out; I mean they don't need to know that ol' Laverne's getting soft. Nobody needs to know that. I've got my street cred to think about after all. Still, those two better hurry if they wanna make it out alive… because I know for sure that there's one man who's not gonna be too happy about this escape of theirs.

And he could be down at any minute to check up on the kid. Lord knows he's been snooping around here so often I'm beginning to think Q-tip's managed to make even the great Percival Cox a softie.

"He's sure as hell turned me into one…" I murmur, putting my feet up.

For some reason that thought just makes me smile.

………

_Carla's POV_

As I enter the room, my mouth formed into that fake smile I always put on when I see Bambi now, I'm taken aback for a moment.

It's… it's empty. The room's empty. The bed sheets are a mess, and there's nothing but a small slip of paper on the cover. No Bambi anywhere to be seen.

"Bambi?" I say, even though it's quite obvious he's not in the room. Although I wouldn't put it beneath JD and Turk to hide under the bed or something just to scare me.

Then I notice that their dead dog is also gone… and no one would move Rowdy out of JD's room, especially if they'd smelt him lately; I mean, no one but JD or Turk that is.

No, JD wouldn't have… not after we told him he was too sick… and definitely not after _I_ told him. I mean he wouldn't dare go against what I said.

Besides I doubt he'd be able to make it that far unless he had some kind of help, and Turk knows that that would be a stupid idea, so he wouldn't try anything…

He's probably off getting treatment or something, so there's no need to worry; I just wish they'd told me where they were going. I mean, they know how I get – I automatically jump off to the wrong conclusions.

"Hey." says a voice from the door. I spin around to see Dr Cox, leaning casually against the doorway, mouth set into a grim line. He looks into the room and frowns. "Just where exactly did Twinkle toes fly off to?"

And just like that, my heart drops.

Bambi can't be off in some other room having treatment – because Perry handles all of that, seeing as he's decided to be so damn protective of Bambi all the time.

Oh no.

How could those two idiots be so _stupid_!?

"Earth to Carla," snaps Dr Cox in a tone I don't much care for right now, "where the hell is Newbie?"

I fling up my hands. "¿Cómo podía saberlo?" I snap back, frustratedly.

Dr Cox squints at me and makes his confused face. Oh he wouldn't be doing that if he knew. He'd be more pissed off and scared than I am. "Carla." He grunts, looking a little annoyed. "Spanish. Turn it _off_ please. Now just where in the hell is Jemima?"

I take a deep breath, feeling my eyes get hot and wet, "I don't know! I just came in here and -" I stop as I remember something, turning around and stalking over to the bed again. I pick up the piece of paper from the covers. It's a note, and it's in my baby's handwriting.

He _wouldn't_.

"What?" asks Dr Cox.

I read it carefully my anger flaring up as I let myself realise what's happened. I can't believe Turk would do something like this – can't he see that Bambi's not up to whatever silly boy antics he's got planned?

I hand the paper to Perry and watch as his face makes that flawless transition from almost gentle and tired to absolutely full blown Coxian _fury_.

My baby is so dead.

………

_JD's POV_

Everything is perfect; me and Turk are chatting and laughing away as if this was any other day. He's scoffed down his monster of an ice cream and is now looking at the melting one at Rowdy's feet as if wishing he could invoke the five minute rule.

"And I swear man, the Janitor's actually doing his job for once. Seriously, I can actually see my face when I look in the locker room mirror – there's no scum or anything!"

I put my pondering face on; I guess without me to torture there's not really much to preoccupy the Janitor anymore… You know, apart from that dead squirrel in my face thing he did a couple of nights ago… I've never screamed so much. And I don't think I can ever look at small rodents the same way again.

Anyway, I… I almost wish we could go back to the weird scary dynamic we had before all this mess… I mean, I kinda wish he'd stick me to the floor again with super-super glue, or sweep a dripping mop over my face, or rugby tackle me off the roof.

It's funny what being ill can make you long for.

"Guess he's bored without me..." I say, picking idly at the grass.

"Got that right," nods Turk, folding his arms behind his head and leaning casually back on the tree trunk with a contented sigh, "pretty much everything's boring without you V-Bear."

And then, just like that, our time here is up. And it's not because I've just spontaneously keeled over and died, but because I can see a very red-faced and very angry looking Dr Cox storming up to us across the lawn.

"Turk," I squeak, and try to hide my face in my hoody.

Turk looks to see what's got me so scared, and stammers, "Ah man, crap," and stands up.

Dr Cox has what looks suspiciously like our note, clutched angrily between his fingers. "What in _God's_ name do you think you're doing?" He shouts.

I didn't think he could look so angry - his eyes are a dangerous stormy grey and much too bright that they almost look wet, and there's a vein throbbing in his temple. I don't think I've ever managed to make him look like this before. He looks more than angry, he almost looks scared.

"JD just wanted to go outside." Turk says simply, backing up a step.

"And you _let_ him? Good God! I thought maybe you were being responsible for once Ghandi - but here you are letting a sick patient out so he can catch his death two damn months too early! Just get him the hell back inside before he catches something - _now_."

"I don't want to go back inside." I say feebly, trying to get into the conversation that they're seemingly having right in front of me, as if I'm just a part of the scenery.

I think if I _was_ part of the scenery I'd like to be one of those willow trees… or maybe a cloud. Sitting calmly and just watching the world go by.

Mmm… what I wouldn't do to be a cloud.

Dr Cox scowls at me, "Ah snap outta it would ya? Don't think I'm just blaming Disco ball head here Newbie, you know you're not strong enough for this - damn it, you're a _doctor_. Why the hell would you go and pull a stunt like this when you know the risks? Do you _want_ to _die_?"

Of course I don't want to… you know… I don't think I can say it, because it's not going to happen. Why can't he understand that I need to have some time away from it all?

"No." I say angrily. And suddenly it's harder to breathe. My lungs have seized up, and it… it hurts. I just want to stay outside for just a while longer. Please. A few tears squeeze their way out between my clenched eyelids. "I needed… to be out –" breathe, "outside…"

"JD?" Turk kneels back down and pushes my hood back worriedly. I try to glare at Dr Cox over his shoulder, but it's hard through the tears that have suddenly clouded my eyes. Oh God - why am I crying? I _never_ cry. And I mean never.

Stop JD. Tears solve nothing, they only make your eyes sting and your heart hurt. Stop.

"JD man, calm down okay?" Turk puts a hand on my arm as I gasp pathetically.

"I don't feel so good." I try to tell him, but he's pushed aside by something or someone – a big blur of red – and I'm not sure what happens next because my eyes are closing all by themselves and I'm glad there's a tree trunk behind my back holding me up.

Suddenly there are strong arms encircling my waist and I'm hefted up into the wheelchair again.

"Just _breathe_ Cindy." Rumbles a deep voice near my ear.

I try to do what the voice says, but my lungs are finding it hard to cooperate, even with all the fresh air out here.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Let's get ya back to your room."

I'm dizzy for a minute. I can hear arguing again and it's making my head pound.

" - and as for you Gandhi, why the hell did you think this would be a good idea? Are you actually trying to kill your little girlfriend here or did you just think it would be fun to scare the hospital shitless with your disappearing act?"

"Dr Cox, come on. He was barely out of the hospital with a qualified doctor on hand right beside him!"

A snort. "Oh no no no. You did _nawt_ just call yourself a _doctor_ there Baldie. I'm sure Francis here woulda been glad to have you around if he happened to need _surgery_, but God forbid him actually need proper medical attention by someone other than a glorified scalpel jockey - I mean, by God, do you even know the risks of him being out here? If you don't then ya just shouldn't've taken him out Ghandi. And if you do know the risks then you either want to give him an early death or you're just stupider than you look. Which is a pre-_hetty_ hard thing to accomplish."

I'm struggling for breath.

I think Dr Cox notices because his rant kinda dies out and I can hear someone come closer. I fold my arms and curl my fingers around my chest, trying to get my mouth to turn into a reassuring smile. Shouldn't make them worry, I'm fine.

"Hey, Jocelyn, you doing all right there?"

I squint open my eyes a little, in time to see Dr Cox's half worried, half pissed off, face swim into view. Then he grabs my wheelchair by the handles and before I know it I'm being steered back into the hospital like there's no tomorrow.

I let out shaky laugh between breaths; because for all I know, with the way I seem to be going, there might not be a tomorrow.

I hug my arms tighter to my chest and look behind me to see Turk running, carrying Rowdy over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

Oh man… I always manage to ruin things, but at least this time I actually did what I wanted to do. I know we didn't spend long under that tree, but it was enough – a small sweet taste of freedom, that's managed to make me smile even if I can't breathe with these silly lungs of mine. And Rowdy got to stretch his legs too.

We're in the hospital. The sunlight doesn't stand a chance against those snapping automatic doors, and the sharp artificial lighting replaces it.

Nobody says anything. I'm just pushed quickly into my room without another word. Laverne looks at me a little guiltily over the top of a magazine and I smile weakly at her. I knew she'd turned a blind eye to my escape… I should thank her later. Even if my body didn't appreciate my trip outside, my mind sure did.

And I smile at that thought. I went outside. Just for a moment I went _outside_! My breathing's erratic, my head is pounding, my fingers are shaking… but there's a contented smile on my face that just won't budge.

Although… I bet Turk and I are in a heap of trouble right now…

Carla is instantly at my side once we're in my room. But instead of addressing me she just gives me a small snugly and slightly wet hug.

"I'm sorry." I start carefully, but Dr Cox just growls at me from over Carla's shoulder and starts flicking through my chart again. Why must he be so obsessed with that thing, surely there's only so much it can tell him?

"Sorry doesn't cut it Harriet." Sighs Dr Cox.

Carla gives me a watery smile and goes straight for Turk instead, "What the hell were you thinking?"

My smile falters a little. Oh please don't yell at my SCB… he was just helping a fellow brother bear out, and besides, your shouty voice makes those things in my head angry… and they have the annoying tendency to pound on my nerve endings when they're angry.

I let out a shaky breath and squeeze my eyes shut against the head ache… owwie…

And then my lungs sort of give up on me, like they did outside, but it's worse this time. I hunch over in the wheelchair and pant for breath, but no amount of wheezing is helping. "Turk -" I manage, "can't…" Oh god, I can't – I can't breathe…

I…

I wonder if my lungs are actually there… or if someone replaced them with… sponges.

In my mind's eye I see the Todd high-fiving a passerby. "All right!" he says, punching his fists in the air, "I so totally took out this guys lungs and replaced them with sponges!"

"Why?" asks a version of me, that suddenly pops in out of nowhere, "Why would you do that?"

"Dude," says the Todd, "how the hell should I know? This is _your_ oxygen-depleted daydream…"

I blink dopily, coming back to myself.

There's the cool flow of oxygen passing through my mouth, the softness of a pillow beneath my head. I can breathe. Ah… sweet glorious oxygen.

Hey, wait a darn second. I'm gasping feebly with an oxygen mask over my face. When did… when did that get there? I blink tiredly, flitting my blue eyes around the room. Come to think of it… when did I manage to get back into this familiarly lumpy bed again?

"Baby, you just weren't thinking! Look what you've done to JD – you know he's not well enough…" Carla sounds upset. No, more than upset. As I look up I see tears in her eyes. Oh. "I can't believe you'd be so _stupid_."

Turk's in more trouble than me at the moment, and I need to put things straight before I pass out.

"Not… Turk's fault." I try to say as they smother me with blankets.

"Oh Bambi, sh. Just concentrate on breathing okay? You've had a busy day, you need to get some sleep." she strokes back my hair in that familiar comforting way and it nearly lulls me to sleep. Nearly.

I pull the mask off weakly, "No… none of you seem to understand, except Turk..." I breathe but it feels like I'm forcing the air into my lungs now I don't have the help of that nice mask. But I need to make them understand how much this meant to me. "I just wanted to get away for a little while and… and forget… forget that I might not make it to next month." The declaration has weakened me, and I can feel my eyes well up again but I'll be damned if I let Carla see me cry.

"V-bear, it's all right." Says Turk. But I can't stop the words coming out of my mouth.

"I don't want to just be stuck here, waiting. I want to enjoy the time I've got, in case I…" my breathing gets worse but I carry on through it because for some reason I just can't stop. "I don't want you guys to be angry, but I just _can't_ deal with you all smothering me, or pretending I can do this by myself, or just… avoiding me. I want things to be like they were; this isn't how I want to remember… remember…" I gasp pathetically, feeling hot and flushed. I can't finish and I clutch at the bed sheets with my fingers trying to breathe.

Dr Cox bats away my hands and secures the oxygen mask to my face, his mouth set into a grim line.

I think I've stunned them into silence.

Through the bleary haze I can see Carla's concerned face as her eyes flit worryingly over to Dr Cox, who's standing solidly at the side of my bed. His expression is stony, but his eyes are something else.

Turk just looks sad, like he did when I told him that rumour about Gilmore girls getting cancelled. But maybe a bit worse than that. This is silent sad. Even Rowdy who's peeking out from behind Turk, has watery eyes.

Oh, J-Dizzle, what have you done?

"I'm sorry I didn't… I didn't mean to say that…" I try to say, but I can't get any more words out. Silly suppressed emotions. My eyes have given up the fight and I'm drifting. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Out…

I'm drifting away.

………

………

_¿Cómo podía saberlo?_ – How should I know?

_Ta so much for reading :) I hope you enjoyed it, review if you like._


	11. Chapter 11: Of Hair and Hats

_I am so so so so so so so so so so so sorry for leaving this story to rest for so long, sorry that you had to see it slowly gathering dust and fading away into obscurity… I found some little morsels that I'd written on my computer and touched them up; I hope they satisfy your appetite.  
I also found an 'alternative' ending that I'd written up on a rainy day… I may post it, but… well, it's sad..._

_Thank you so much to EliH2 for beta reading this chapter for me and coming up with great changes! You're truly excellent, and you know the characters so well.__ I couldn't have posted this without your help._

Chapter 11: Of Hair and Hats

…

…

_JD's POV_

Things have died down a bit since my outburst yesterday. I think everyone is just ignoring that anything ever happened, which is good for me because I didn't really mean to say anything at all. And that odd curl of guilt makes my tummy all queasy even thinking about it. Though that could just be all those meds.

I'm just so tired. Tired of everything. Tired of being in this bed, and tired of feeling like a mini marshmallow being repeatedly squashed by a giant boot… It just isn't me, all this being sick malarkey.

Oh, the ludicrous things I would do for an Eagle right now.

The me in my head gets spun through the air so fast it feels like I'm flying, the wind stings my eyes and skims through my perfectly styled hair. I'm flying! Actually flying! I'm not in a hospital bed, I'm feeling the comforting muscleyness of my Chocolate bear's shoulder underneath me as he spins me round and round and round.

"Wheeeeeeeeeee!" I say, earning an odd look from Dr Cox who's standing stiffly by my door like a particularly angry barricade. I feel a little bit dizzy from my mental flying escapade, but I shake it away to give my caring mentor a special smile.

He glares at me.

You see, Dr Cox is on me-sitting duty. He's gone to ridiculous measures to make sure I'm under armed guard every minute of the day, and he monitors what goes in and out of the room in case I might be trying to make a break for it. It's a wonder he hasn't put bars on my window yet, although now I think about it he _has_ been having sneaky talks with the Janitor, and just a few hours ago, I saw that very same Janitor wink at me, nod to the window, and brandish his screwdriver menacingly…

I narrow my eyes with suspicion, glancing from my open window to Dr Cox and back again. I hope he doesn't put bars on it. At the moment that blissfully open window, with its slight warm breeze and twinkle of sunshine, is my only source of freedom. I sigh. Dare I say it, but my trip yesterday may have caused my mentor go insane.

I mean, he even followed me to the toilet, and well, I get a little nervous under pressure. I stood there shivering and trying to remain standing upright by leaning heavily on the wall while Dr Cox fixed me with his signature death glare from the doorway. I'm so weak right now that it takes most of my strength to get out of bed in the first place, but I really don't want a catheter right now to add to my embarrassment.

On the other hand, trying to pee while my mentor pierces my flesh with his angry angry eyes is just too much.

"Dr Cox," I say through chattering teeth, throwing him a pleading glance, "please could you… gimme a minute?"

"Look, I don't give a damn if you can't peepee while someone's watching ya Loretta. You should've thought about that before you decided to nearly goshdarn kill yourself."

Oh, he exaggerates so. My lungs really don't feel like they're eating me anymore, not much anyway... only when I try to stand up… but it's all perfectly normal for a patient to go through this… I'm just not used to _me_ going through this.

Well, the table's have turned J-Dawg. It's time you got used to it.

I know why I'm stuck with Dr Cox and not someone who actually wants to be here, even though everyone's made silly excuses about not being able to stay with me.

The thing is, Carla and my C-bear have gone to find Elliot and Dan… and I sure hope they find them soon. Not just because I really really miss those guys, but also because Dr Cox seems to be a little more snippy today than usual. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm currently practicing my big baby blue puppy-dog eyes on him.

He is trying to ignore me by sitting in a chair with a paper, but he can't escape me that easily, we're stuck with each other and that means – oh yes indeedy – I'm going to finally get my Super Perry Cox Hug of Dreams!

Of course, Dr Cox kinda needs a little convincing.

I pout my lower lip out a little.

He rolls his eyes. "Ah give me a break Newbie - you're not getting your girly, and frankly disgusting, hug, 'cause you're not _dying_." He growls in that Coxian way I know so well.

I don't want to say it. But I do. I lower my eyes, fingers tracing the bed covers. "I might." I say quietly, having taken off my breathing mask for a little while despite my protesting lungs. I don't really believe it… of _course_ I don't, I may be sick but I'll get through this, right? But man, I'll do anything to finally get that hug. The Super Perry Cox Hug of Dreams.

Dr Cox just grumbles, flitting his icy blue eyes up to mine and back to the paper he's pretending to read, "You most certainly are _nawt _Cindy, now shut the hell up and sleep. After that stupid stunt you idiots pulled yesterday, you should be glad I haven't gaffataped your sorry ass to the ceiling." A slightly sickened smile. "Aaaaand I think I should point out that even if you _were_ about to peg it, I still would _nawt_ hug you there, Newbie. Whatever disgustingly girly illness you've contracted is probably contagious."

His insults bounce off me like I'm a human-shaped trampoline. "Aw come on Dr Cox. Pleeease?"

His eyes darken, like there's a storm a-brewing. I fear I may have pushed too much, and I resist the urge to run for cover, or at the very least, pull the covers up over my head, lest his evil laser vision sizzles me on the spot. "Newbie," he starts dangerously, "so help me, despite that cocktail of mind-numbingly good drugs your on, I am _not_ above anesthetising you up to your eyeballs. Now shut the he-_ell_ up and go to sleep."

He's going easy on me. I guess I must look sicker than I thought. I sigh and turn on my side, breathing mask back in place because oxygen is yummy. I snuggle into the covers, getting comfy.

But… after about a minute or two, I give up on sleeping. I must have a death wish or something, because even though I know Dr Cox is really not in the mood for me right now, I realise that talking to my mentor would be a much more fun use of my time. All I seem to do nowadays is sleep, and even though I can feel old Mr. Sandman pulling at my eyes with his magical sleep dust, I think Dr Cox might still be rather annoyed at me for my little trip outside yesterday. I need to make amends.

"Dr Cox?" I ask him quietly, burying my chin in the blankets.

Dr Cox grunts and lifts his newspaper higher to cover up his snarling face. I guess he doesn't want to talk, but as usual, this doesn't stop me.

"Dr Cox?" I rasp, removing the mask and the sweet oxygen accompanying it. It makes me dizzy for a moment, but it passes.

He ignores me.

"Dr Cox…? Dr Cox! Helloooo?"

The knuckles holding the paper whiten and Dr Cox lowers the paper with a look so sharp that it could skewer a teddy bear at thirty paces. I close my mouth with a small snap. The apology can wait.

He puts the paper back up.

Huh… well I guess I am a little tired; these blankets are so warm and my head's so full of fuzz… At least I'm not feeling as sick as yesterday, which might have something to do with all those tasty drugs the nursing staff around here seem to love filling me up with. Although I'm up and down so much I'm starting to feel like a yoyo...

If I _was_ a yoyo, I'd like to be one of those cool ones that light up and walk the dog and things. "I'd sparkle whenever I wanted to." I add dreamily, eyes blinking sleepily, letting my thoughts wander into a small daydream in which I'm covered in glitter and basking in the joy that only shiny things can bring. A dopey smile. Then my mind reverts back, like it always does, to what I always seem to be thinking about.

Me, being unavoidably sickly. In my mind's eyes I see my yoyo string being cruelly cut and I fall helplessly on the floor, rolling and rolling and getting more and more dizzy. Okay, _now_ I feel sick. My head spins and I keep falling until I jerkily wake myself up. My eyes open and close owlishly.

J-dizzle, get a hold of yourself.

There'll be no sparkling whilst I'm stuck in this bed, my breath fogging up the oxygen mask like a small cloud. Clouds don't sparkle. I have half a mind to break out again, although I have a pretty strong feeling that there's no chance of that happening… what with Dr Cox on guard duty. And I don't want to make anyone upset or angry again. Seeing Carla's hurt face was enough to make me stay wherever she wanted me to.

Besides, I think I've had all the fresh air I need… and I'll get better soon so I'll be able to dance outside to my heart's content… you know, if I get better, that is… I mean, when I get better… because I will get better.

"Do you think I've got a good chance of making it?" I whisper, almost to myself. As a doctor, it's hard to lie to myself and I find my brain going through all the checks on my own body, like I would any other patient. "Maybe." I answer breathlessly.

Dr Cox seems to hear me, however, and gets a tinsy bit angry. The paper makes a small thump as he crumples it up and chucks it at my head.

Owwie.

I blink a little because I didn't expect a crumpled piece of paper to hit me right between the eyes, and now they're watering a bit. It sure doesn't help my headache any.

"That is _it_ Newbie - I don't _care_ if I'm on sick idiot watch, I will _kill_ you and/or disfigure your face if you say another word. I mean it, Betsy!"

I nod tiredly and close my eyes as my head protests the movement. I guess he doesn't want to talk to me right now. That's okay, I understand. I know I'm probably not good company. I wouldn't want to talk to me either.

"And for god's sake Megan…" I hear Dr Cox grumble, almost softly, "you're gonna be fine. You complete pansy."

…

_Dr Cox's POV_

God damn it, the kid looks half dead. And it just makes me want to strangle him until he snaps the hell outta it already. I hate that I'm stuck looking after him while Carla and Ghandi go sniffing after those other two idiots. And yeah okay, I'd rather be the one in here than leave Newbie in the incapable hands of some of the so called "doctors" on the staff, but after his escape attempt yesterday...

He scared me.

I grunt and glance at the kid as he lies with his face half buried in the covers. There's just a tuft of his hair poking up and… it's not right for Newbie to look that exhausted. I've almost had enough of this. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna leave Newbie to deal with it alone. I'd be just as bad as Barbie and the kid's halfwit of a brother. I scowl at the very idea.

Ah shit. And I just threw away my only companion, the paper that is. And now I've got nothing better to do than just watch the kid while he sleeps, just like his mummy would if he had a stomach bug.

I growl a little to myself, swiping at my nose as I pointedly turn my back on the kid and fold my arms. Priscilla's not getting any sympathy from me after what he pulled yesterday. I swear to god, if he hadn't have looked so goddamn ill, I would have punched him then and there. As it was, he was mostly out of it by the time we got him back inside, girly eyes closing and his forehead all creased with what I know had to be a one he-_hell_ of a horrific headache.

So instead I've just done the rational thing and barricaded him in his room indefinitely.

Now, Ghandi on the other hand.

I sure let him have it once Newbie was knocked for six.

"You are a complete and utter _idiot_. A sorry excuse for doctor, let alone a goddamn 'best friend' to the kid. And you sure better hope that you're forever glued to Carla's side from now on Basketball head, or so help me, I'm going to end up maiming and or lobotomising you until you have an excuse for clearly nawt thinking about the damage you've just done to your girlfriend's recovery. Don't think you'll _ever_ get to see Newbie again unless you have your hand held by someone else 'cause I've sure as hell have lost any trust that I may have been resting on your flabby excuses for shoulders. Dear _God_."

I'm actually quite impressed that the words came out of my mouth instead of the inhuman gnashing of teeth that I sometimes resort to. But please. How could anyone be so _stupid_?

Well, of course this is Ghandi and Newbie I'm talking about here. I mean they're the two most idiotic excuses for men I have pretty much ever laid eyes on…

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to get rid of the stress headache. I once caught the two of them making a pool out of jello. They'd spooned out the entire month's supply of jello cups in the cafeteria.

Yeah that's right, a goddamn _jello_ pool in the middle of the hospital. I caught them, half naked, giggling like a pair of hormonally driven schoolgirls, around a monstrosity of jello Newbie had somehow piled into a blow up swimming pool while the cafeteria was closed.

"Avast ye!" Newbie said, the back of his girly head bobbing up and down with sickening glee, "I be boarding yer jello ship Captain chocolate bear."

"Dude," Ghandi grinned, like some deranged overgrown kindergartner at the sight of the wobbling mass of green jello, "this is so awesome!"

Newbie was beaming, I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the sickening sweetness of it in his voice. "Happy birthday Chocolate bear! I knew you'd like it, and for the pièce de résistance I -" that is until he felt the prickling of my death glare on the back of his neck and turned around to see me glowering at him from the open doorway. "Ah!" he squealed, hands automatically covering up his pathetic excuse for a manhood, "Dr Cox – uh - It's not what it looks like I swear!"

It sure as hell _was_ what it looked like. Those two idiots were stripped down to their underpants ready for a jello paddle and everything.

I snort at the memory and refold my arms, glancing back at Newbie again, because I just can't help myself. It's like having a sickly puppy beside you and not being able to take your eyes off it in case it somehow snuffs it in the ten seconds that you did.

As I think this, Newbie's face screws up and he mumbles into his pillow. A shaking hand comes up to rub at his forehead sleepily but he doesn't wake up.

Shit. The kid's in pain. I get up and adjust his medication, noting it down on the chart for something to do. If those idiots don't come back soon, I don't know what I'm gonna do. I've sure as hell got to get out of here, god knows what the kid's turning me into.

…

_Carla's POV_

I hate to leave Bambi in the hospital, but deep down I know that he'll be safe with Dr Cox. Well, I'm not sure that _safe_ is the right word, but there's no way Dr. Cox will let anything else happen to him. I'm pretty sure he'll have poor Bambi under strict house arrest, I mean I won't be surprised if we get back and find that Bambi's been strapped to the bed with his mouth gagged.

I sigh. Bambi needs more than this from all of us… he needs comforting. He's always been so quick to give his heart out to others, and it's high time that we started giving it back to him. I don't care what Elliot and Dan are going through right now, it's nowhere near as bad as what our Bambi is facing. He needs us. And Carla Espinosa is sure as hell going to drag them back to the hospital kicking and screaming if I have to!

Turk's worried, he's getting all antsy and I know he doesn't want to be here at all, he wants to be with JD.

"Turk honey, Dr. Cox has it covered; you don't need to worry about JD okay? We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

He pouts a little, but I give him a dangerous glare and he knows that in truth I'm actually going pretty easy on him, especially after the stunt him and Bambi pulled yesterday. He's in my bad books right now. So he can sure as hell help me out with this.

We've been to a load of bars already, and there's been no sign of Dan or Elliot anywhere. But just as I'm ready to move on to a new area entirely, I see a familiar blonde head come though a doorway just ahead of us.

I practically sprint over there, Turk hot on my heels and shouting something like "you crazy woman – slow down!"

And it's definitely Elliot, and that's definitely Dan hanging onto her like she's the only think that's keeping him upright. And it definitely smells like they've been drowning their sorrows for a while.

"Elliot!" I say breathlessly and she snaps her head up in surprise. I had a huge speech all lined up, a rant worthy of Dr Cox himself, I said it over and over in my head while we were searching. "What do you think you're doing bailing out on Bambi like that? do you have _any_ idea…" My anger at them had grown so much these past few days… and yet, just one look at their forlorn faces and I just… I can't… they both look so… lost. Just lost. And in spite of it all, I find myself forgiving them almost instantly.

Though they could probably both do with a slap.

Sure they're drunk and they haven't been there for Bambi, but we all deal with these kinds of bad situations in different ways; we work at a hospital for god's sake, we know how hard an illness like this can be on a patient's family. And we sure as _hell_ are Bambi's family.

"JD needs you." Is all I manage. Some strong willed Carla Espinosa I turned out to be.

Turk catches up with us, panting. "Where the hell have you guys been?" he manages, once he gets his breath back. Elliot starts to blab something about Dan but Turk cuts her off. "Look, save it okay. It's not me you have to apologise to. Just…" he sighed, and I let my baby take control of the situation for once. He can be so commanding when he wants to be. That's one of the reasons why I love him so much. "Get in the car, we're going back to the hospital, and you guys are talking to JD and apologising and - and _everything_. Right baby?" he still looks to me for confirmation though.

I nod, my eyes dark and determined, "JD's got his radiation treatment tomorrow and he's going to need all of us."

Elliot nods as if that was her plan all along. "We were just heading back to the hospital... we just…" Her blue eyes glittering under the messy blonde bangs. "needed to sort some things out."

Dan dips his head a little and doesn't speak.

They don't even protest when we steer them both to the car and drive back to the hospital like there's no tomorrow.

Turk's at the wheel and his mind is only on one thing - getting back to his Vanilla bear. I can't say I blame him. We've been away for hours, and who knows what we'll go back to, I check my phone for the millionth time. No messages from Dr Cox. I try to calm myself down a bit. Bambi will be fine.

Looking up I catch a glimpse of the two of them in the back of the car in the wing mirror. Elliot is looking ahead, resolutely.

She looks pretty rough, but I can see that she's ready to go back. I mean, Elliot's always been a more than competent doctor. Well, when she can get her head in the game she is. And right now she's got that look in her eyes, the look that she has when she's dealing with a particularly hard medical case and the test results have just come back. She looks sad, but ready. I know she can do this.

I turn my gaze to Dan. His head is resting on the window of the car door, and his eyes are shut. I wonder for a moment if he's so drunk that he's passed out. My heart melts a little as the light from outside the car illuminates his face for a moment and I catch the barest hint of wetness on his cheek.

…

_Turk's POV_

I've gotta get back to my Vanilla bear, or I swear I'll go crazy. I think I'm getting a little overprotective of my brother bear, but at the moment… man, I just don't care. I put the pedal to the metal and before we know it we're back at the hospital. I might have run a few stop signs, but Carla didn't even seem to notice. She must be as nervous as I am.

I stop the car, unclipping my seatbelt as I lean back and look at the passengers over my shoulder.

"We're here." I say, kinda pointlessly, because they look like they're in their own worlds right now. Elliot nods and gets out of the car. It's Dan who's the problem. He's had a couple more than he should have by the looks and smell of it. And even though he looks like crap I can't help thinking how he could possibly do this to Vanilla bear. He should be there for his brother, but as usual... I mean, it's Dan…

My baby gets out and opens the back door, and Dan almost falls flat on his face. Aw man, I scooch around the car to where Carla and Elliot are struggling to keep Dan upright. We manage to get him up onto his feet between the three of us and lean him against the car. He blinks blearily at me and gives me a crooked smile. He's wasted. But he's the least of my problems at the moment.

I find myself hopping on my feet and Carla gives me that look. Baby, we're so close!

She frowns but says, "All right Turk, we can go. But JD's fine. I'm sure of it." She turns to Elliot with a hand on her hip. My baby means business and Elliot knows it. "We're going to check on Bambi. I'm trusting you both to get yourselves cleaned up. You're here now. And JD needs you. And If I don't see you in that hospital, in Bambi's room, _apologising_, in less than an hour - you'll have me to deal with. You got that?"

It's clear that if they don't "got that", then there'll be hell to pay. I am so hot for my sassy woman right now.

And I'm off, not bothering to hear Elliot's reply because under all that blonde hair and fuss, we all know that she's a good person. And a good friend. However, all that's on my mind at the minute is getting to my best friend. I'm literally running to JD's room, because I've left him alone for way too long. And yeah, he's trying to be brave, but I can see it's starting to get to him. There's only so much smiling can hide ya know?

We're through the front doors. Laverne gives me a quirk of her eyebrows as I fly past. I skid along the corridor, "Vanilla bear!" I sing. My trainers squeak against the floor as I turn on my heels, graceful as a ballerina.

When I get to his room though, it looks like J-dizzle's fallen asleep. He's snuggled up in the covers, eyes closed and oxygen mask in place. Man. I catch my breath and enter the room as quietly as I can.

Dr Cox is sitting in the chair by V-bear's bed. I give him a small, slightly nervous smile and he gives me a wicked grin in reply and brandishes a syringe at me with those scary eyes.  
Man, he can be creepy when he wants to be. Looks like V-bear's gonna be out for a while then. At least I kinda hope that that's what the syringe was for, I know Dr Cox said he didn't want me in JD's room without an escort, so I sure as hell hope he's not threatening me with that needle or anything.

I back away a little, and bump into Carla. My heart stops beating so frantically. There's no way that Cox will get me when my baby's around. I resist the urge to poke my tongue out at him, but I do give him a little smirk.

"Oh Bambi," Carla says.

Dr Cox gets up and stalks out the room without a word.

…

_Dr Cox's POV_

Carla and her pet monkey finally came back to relieve me from guard dog duty, meaning I can finally get on and shout at some interns like I re-he-_eally_ need to. Not that they've done anything wrong that I'm aware of… hell, of course they've done _something_ wrong, they're interns for God's sake.

I just need anything… anything to get rid of this pressure that's been weighing down on my shoulders just having to watch over the stupid kid. But first I decide to see if the two idiots bothered turning up.

And to my surprise, I see them turn the corner. Barbie and Newbie's poor excuse for a brother. I clench my jaw. Dan's drunk by the looks of his bleary eyes and staggering gait, and Barbie's face is pink from the embarrassment of no doubt having to escort him through the hospital past all the nurses at the station who know exactly who she's been avoiding.

So they finally realised they were being idiots and came back for the kid did they? I glare at them as they get nearer, their tails between their legs. Yeah, they sure as hell better look guilty. As if the kid hasn't got enough to deal with already without his best buddies legging it outta there and leaving him to deal with it alone.

I whistle at them as they get nearer, a clear sharp dog whistle, which shocks them out of whatever they were moping in. Guilt I hope.

"We-he-ell, look who finally decided what selfish bastards they were being and crawled back for forgiveness." I greet them, with a smile. Well, it's nawt really a smile, actually I'm baring my teeth in a sort of feral snarl. But it does the job. I fold my arms, and flick my nose. Eyes like steel.

Barbie opens her mouth to reply but I cut her off. She isn't worth my time.

"Outta the way Barberoo. I got important people to see. I don't know how you're planning on making it up to the kid. I sure as _hell_ wouldn't forgive ya for leaving me to die alone. Mmm, yeah. Ta ta, bye bye then!"

I storm off, not having to glance back to know that Dan and Barbie are wilting under the weight of their own guilt.

…

_Elliot's POV_

Oh god. I can't believe I did this to JD, I… Dr Cox is so right, I left JD all alone, just when he needed me most and – Oh no. Oh Frick! I can feel it, the onslaught of tears… Oh god, not now, if I start blubbering that'll be it, I can't hold it in, and I'll look like the bride of Dracula when I try and apologise to JD.

Stop Elliot – don't cry, don't cry – but it's too late, I can hear myself whimpering. I try to hide my eyes behind my blonde bangs as Dan starts looking uncomfortable and I burst out an "I'm sorry!" and leave him standing awkwardly in the corridor as I run to the toilets.

I sob for a while. Sitting on the cold tiles of the toilet floor and trying to calm myself down. And after a few moments the tears dry up. Then I manage to sort my face out, but you know it's pretty obvious that I've been crying, what with the way my eyes and cheeks are as pink as the nursing staff's scrubs. But once the tears started it was so hard to stop them.

It all comes down to the fact that this is JD that's tucked up in a hospital room, looking all frail and exhausted and so… patient-like. This is my JD.

And I don't ever want to lose him.

It's never been like this before, the people who are sick, the people who die, they've always been fleeting. I know it sounds terrible, but at the end of it all there's always been JD and me and Turk and Carla and Dr Cox. It's like we were invincible or something. We've all had losses, but they've never been so personal before. At least, not for me.

The way I usually deal with these things is to slip right into doctor mode. It's familiar territory and it comes so easily to me. But I can't; because what JD really needs right now is a friend.

I look determinedly at the mirror. Okay so, my eyes are bright pink around my blue irises, and my makeup is _totally_ ruined. Frick. But to be honest, I find myself just not caring anymore; I've put this off for far too long. I nod at myself resolutely, blonde hair bobbing.

I go to JD's room without another thought. Because I know that's where I should have been all along.

…

_Carla's POV_

My poor Bambi. I don't have the heart to wake him up just yet; he looks like he could use the rest. I push my fingers comfortingly through JD's hair in the way I usually do. Only my heart drops when I realise what I've done.

"Oh no no no baby," Turk screeches, his eyes wide, "what the hell did you do?"

I look at the small patch of dark hair caught between my fingers and my heart nearly stops. But being the strong Dominican that I am I try to think this through logically. I mean, Bambi's hair will grow back anyway, and we all knew his poor locks would suffer with all this chemo. We've seen it happen a million times before.

I have a feeling he's going to need one hell of a Carla mothering hug when he wakes up though; his hair is his pride and joy.

I mean, he takes hours on it every single day; that man uses more product than me and Elliot combined!

I can't even think how many times he's opened the bathroom door and run into mine and Turk's room with a look of pure unadulterated happiness on his face after using some new hair mousse or gel. "Carla, C-bear," he'd shout, with his Bambi grin plastered to his face, the one that makes his face light up like a light bulb, "smell me! Smell my head! I smell like Watermelon surprise!"

I smile sadly. He hasn't done that in a while.

"Baby," I can both see and hear the panic in Turk, unlike me he doesn't seem to be able to hide his emotions very well, and he's dancing on his toes like it's the end of the universe, "oh man, JD is going to _kill_ you! What do we do? Do you think you could put it back?"

"Turk," I say softly, "you're being ridiculous. His hair'll grow back after the chemo and radiation therapy, and you know that there's absolutely nothing we can do about it. JD will understand."

Turk doesn't seem to think so; he squeezes his eyes shut and puts his hands over his ears. "Put it back woman! Just put it back!"

And all the commotion means that Bambi starts to wake up.

It takes him a couple of minutes to fully open those big baby blues of his, and I feel the familiar flutter of worry in my heart and rub his pale cheek with the hand not containing his poor bedraggled hair.

"Honey, are you feeling alright? We didn't mean to wake you." I say with a stern glance to Turk who has his mouth shut firmly and his eyes wide, as though if he makes any sudden movements JD will explode or something. Then I realise that he's trying to hold it in.

"Vanilla bear." He manages to say.

And because of that weird bond my baby and Bambi have, JD knows something is wrong within about two seconds of getting himself to focus on us.

"What? What is it?" He asks, sounding exhausted but his blue eyes look concerned as he takes in our worried faces. As if he thinks something's bad has happened to us. Oh Bambi. Then he looks to me, down to my handful of his shiny hair and then back to Turk with hurt eyes.

"V-Bear, don't freak out man okay, I think you look good like that - I mean being bald suits me, right? Maybe we could be shiny head brothers!"

Bambi blinks a little and softly takes the tufty handful of hair from my fingers. "Oh." He says. A trembling hand goes up to his head and he gets another handful of hair for his troubles.

He lets his fingers fall shaking into his lap.

"Shiny head brothers." He says softly, a smile straining his mouth. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry honey," I say, not knowing what else to do, "it'll grow back in a few months, you know that Bambi."

JD just nods, still staring at the loose hair and letting his finger tips stroke it softly. "Yeah," he says his voice cracking a little, and he may be smiling on the outside but I can tell his heart isn't in it, "yeah, it's no big deal guys… it's not like I haven't gone bald before right? I can pull it off easily..." a bigger grin, but his eyes were scared. "It's fine."

I remember that time he shaved all of his hair off for a patient, but even then it took him a while to actually go through with it and he was so ecstatically happy when it began to grow back, he was jumping around the place showing off the stubble with glee and getting people to rub his head for luck. I know inside he's gotta be taking this hard, and that plastered on smile is not fooling anyone.

Turk reaches over and gives Bambi a well needed hug, and because it's JD, a bit of a snuggle.

I guess, until now, nothing has physically changed for him. Sure, he can't leave this bed and I know he's got to be hurting and exhausted, but now he's pretty much been labelled as a cancer patient. It seems like this leukaemia is slowly taking pieces of the Bambi we love away.

Oh would you just listen to yourself, it's only _hair_! I'm not having my Bambi looking all mopey like this over something as silly as hair.

I put my hands on my hips, and instantly Bambi and Turk give me that look. They know I've just gone into Dominican mode. There'll be no sad faces with Carla on the job. "Now you listen here Bambi, I'm not having you getting so upset over this. Now I'm gonna go and get you a hat or something because you know how cold the ward gets sometimes… And at least _your_ hair will grow back; you know Turk hasn't had any hair at all since I met him." I give Bambi my biggest teasing smile.

It works and Bambi even gives me a small smile back. A real one this time.

"Hey!" says Turk, offended, or acting it anyway for Bambi's sake, "you know I rock this look!" then a small pout. "Baby, I thought you loved me just the way I am…"

"I love your shiny head C-bear," says JD, smile growing larger with every second. Then his eyes go out of focus and he whispers dreamily, "smooth as freshly churned butter…"

We both smile at the daydream, I've hated the way things have changed so much and Bambi's daydreams give me that well needed return to normalcy. We're all worrying so much, and out of all of us it's JD who's trying to make us feel better, to get us back to how we all used to be.

Turk slaps Bambi gently on the shoulder to bring him out of it and grins mischievously. "Thanks man, but you know," here he winks at Bambi and I know he's got something in mind, "it does get pretty chilly up there in the nighttimes," he gestured to his hairless head, "so we'll just let Carla get you a real _nice_ hat, so you don't catch a cold."

"Can it be a cowboy hat?" asks Bambi sweetly. And I realise, with a quirk of my eyebrow, that Turk somehow communicated the idea across to JD without me noticing, probably through that weird bond they've got.

Turk grins from ear to ear. "Hell yeah it can! And baby, while you're at it, could you pick me one up too? And a poncho. I got some obsession for the western right now."

They both give me their puppy dog eye impressions and I sigh exasperatedly, but decide that I'd rather have the two of them doing awful Clint Eastwood impressions all day than have Bambi looking like he did five minutes ago.

…

_Dr Cox's POV_

Just a quick check up. That's all this is. I definitely haven't been stalking around the hospital trying to distract myself for long enough that it's acceptable to go back and look at the kid. Ah, shit. I growl at myself. Wondering how on earth I let the damn girl get so close to me.

I walk into Newbie's room, and I just can't get over what my eyes are seeing. My face falls into the automatic scowl. "… Just _what…_ the _hell…_ is that Clarissa?"

"I'm a cowboy." Says Newbie innocently. Yeah, you got that right, Newbie's sitting up in bed with those familiar exhausted blue eyes and a goddamn cowboy hat perched on his head. It's glittery. I re-he-heally don't want to ask. And, dear god, that looks like a poncho splayed out on the bed covers. No doubt he was too tired to put it on, and for once I'm grateful that he was.

And look-ee-here, Carla and her pet monkey have left him alone. Against my orders. There's gonna be hell to pay.

"No, you are _nawt _a cowboy," I growl, "you'd only ever be a cow_girl _and no, you know what - I don't think you'd even pass for that." I roll my eyes, and take my familiar stance at the end of the bed, "Let me guess, your hair's finally suffocated from all the girly goop you subject it to and has decided to leave your embarrassing head in hopes of being able to breathe. Am I right? I'm just gosh darn _always_ right." I hold up my hand to shh the girl as he starts to answer back.

"But Dr Cox -"

"Uh bup bup! Now you just listen here sweetcheeks, if it makes you feel better looking like a complete idiot then quite frankly I don't give a crap. Now it's your radiation treatment in about half an hour and you better get yourself ready. If you think you've got it bad now, well you just sure as hell haven't felt nothing yet. There will be a lo-ho-ot of you wishing you could die."

Gosh, I just love to fill the kid with confidence. Yeah, I know I'm going hard on him. But hell… I feel like I need to _test_ the kid, he needs to start fighting back or this is gonna beat him. The brim of his oversized cowboy hat falls over his eyes as he lowers his head.

"Oh Perry, you exaggerate things. I'm gonna be fine." He says calmly. Right answer kid. I grunt noncommittally, but he sure as hell knows it's really in agreement. What we don't need right now is Newbie giving up, no matter what bad news gets shoved in his face.

Newbie rubs his eyes and lifts the _thing_ up to look at me, where in god's name he found that hat is beyond me, but it probably has something to do with basketball head. "And this hat really suits me; I've been fighting off smokin' hot babes left right and centre all day." I snort but that just makes Newbie's monstrous grin grow wider, "You're just jealous!" he says and adds, "Punk." For good measure.

Well, someone sure is perky today. I'll batter him back down like the good old days. "_I_ sent those nurses in here Jezebel, and I don't think taking urine samples and checking to see if you've pooped yourself means they like the look of you. At all. Besides that, one of them was a guy."

Newbie pouts. "Jealous." He mumbles and folds his arms.

And that's when Barbie finally walks in. It sure took her long enough; sure, maybe if I was a little less hard on the gal she would've been here earlier. But she's going to have to deal with it sooner or later.

She's been crying, her face is all blotchy and a large part of me is glad that she's feeling like crap. So she does have a heart after all. After what she pulled on my… I shake my head with a grimace… after what she pulled on _Newbie_, she better have a damn good explanation for legging it away from the kid when he needed her the most. Newbie follows my angry gaze to the door, his blue eyes going wide.

And then he cracks the biggest smile.

"Elliot." He says softly, with all kinds of wonder and hope lighting up his face like a damned Christmas tree, as if he never thought he'd see her again. Kid's grinning like an idiot, like Barbie's just grown a horn out of her head and turned into a unicorn... and just for a second - a not even worth mentioning miniscule moment… I'm glad that Barbie came back.

That is until Priscilla reaches his arms out for the blonde bimbo and she runs to him like some damn Hallmark moment. It's enough to make me sick and I hastily make an exit. After the obligatory rolling of my eyes and the gagging noises of course.

Barberoo can handle the kid for a while; I've got me a date with Newbie's idiot of a brother. And I have a gut feeling I'll find him sulking in the staff shower room, most likely naked, and yes, most likely I'm gonna have to give him a swift kick up the ass and remind him he's got a sick brother who needs his bone marrow soon. I'll also remind him that if he even so much as thinks about doing a runner again he'll have me and my extensive knowledge of, and access to, a whole bunch of dangerous medical chemicals, to deal with… I shake my head disgustedly, somehow nawt being able to get the frankly hideous mental image of Newbie's naked drunken brother out of my head.

I growl. The kid sure as hell better thank me for this…

…

…

_I've written a little bit more. We'll have to see if I can type it all up and make it coherent enough :) We'll get inside Dan's head I think. Thank you so much for reading and putting up with this._


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